The Skunks by Fiona Warnick

Author:Fiona Warnick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tin House Books

* * *

I thought I had escaped. I hadn’t.

Ellie called as I turned into Jan and Steve’s driveway. I put her on speakerphone and her voice rustled through the parked car: Wait, wait, wait, she said. Wasn’t Eli the one you hooked up with?

Technology had dulled the safety of distance. In the olden days, physical space could be counted on to impede communication; if you wanted to avoid someone, you only had to move across the country. Today, miles meant nothing. A few finger taps could always produce the outlines of a person: a voice, a face, a tweet about postmodern armchairs from last October.

I pressed my head back into the headrest. Ugh, I said, yeah.

Okay, said Ellie. Okay, hold on, I’m just getting home, I think my housemates are here. Wait while I walk through the living room. Don’t hang up.

I unbuckled my seat belt and took off my raincoat, wadding it into a ball and hugging it against my body. Over the phone, doors opened and closed. Pleasantries were exchanged. One of the roommates wanted to order pizza for dinner. One of the roommates thought they’d been eating out too much.

A door shut on the other end of the line. Why didn’t you say that? Ellie wanted to know.

There were lots of responses I could have given. The responses wouldn’t have been lies, but I wouldn’t have been confident they were true. I might have said I’d felt awkward talking about it within earshot of Eli. I might have said it was high school and didn’t matter anymore. I might have said I thought Ellie didn’t like it when I talked about boys.

And what was Ellie’s motivation for the question? Was she hurt that I’d kept something from her?

I told her the hookup was a long time ago. It hadn’t seemed relevant.

She sighed. I can’t tell if you’re being dumb on purpose.

What?

Hookups are always relevant.

We were both quiet for a minute, and then spoke at the same time.

Look, I have to go—

If you want to—

It’s fine, it’s fine, said Ellie. I’ll see you later. You’re just funny, sometimes.

After we hung up, I got out of the car and went into the house. I hung my raincoat in the mudroom closet next to Eli’s parents’ winter parkas.

It was too hot to turn on the stove. The rain had pinned the heat to the earth, and the air felt like waking up feverish and sweaty under a hotel room blanket. I chopped celery into three-inch logs and spread peanut butter down the center. In a cabinet, behind the turbinado sugar, I found a single-serving box of raisins. I placed raisins on the celeries one at a time, like I was dealing cards. It seemed important for each stalk to end up with an equal number.

Eli and I had hooked up in high school. He’d been a senior, and known. I’d been a sophomore, and unknown. There was no way to tell the story without arousing pity: I had been used for my body.

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