Sociopath by Patric Gagne

Author:Patric Gagne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2024-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

I slipped the note under the corner of the telephone, which triggered a thought that had been gnawing at me for some time. In recent weeks there had been at least a dozen different times I’d wanted to make a call.

“What do you think?” I asked the tiger. “Should we see if he’s home?” I lifted the sleek black handle and dialed the number I knew by heart. David answered on the second ring.

“Guess where I am,” I said.

“Hey!” he said. “I was hoping it was you. Caller ID just said LA.”

“Holmby Hills, actually,” I told him. “I’m at the Playboy Mansion.”

“Get out!” David laughed. “I’ve gotta visit you someday. Your life is so crazy!”

The thought of David visiting made me so happy. Of course, I knew better than to put my faith in simple solutions. But still, it was lovely to imagine. Hearing his voice, thinking about being together again, it felt good. It felt honest. It felt real, even though I knew it was a fantasy.

“How long’s it been?” he asked. “Two years now?”

“Closer to three,” I said. It was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other since we’d met. “But who’s counting?”

Neither of us said anything for a bit. David broke the silence. “It’s weird,” he said. “We haven’t seen each other in years, we live on different sides of the country… but I still think about you every day. Like you live next door.”

I smiled, glad I wasn’t the only one. “Me, too.”

“What do you think that means?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, absentmindedly rifling through one of Hef’s desk drawers.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he said softly, “you’re still the coolest girl I’ve ever known.”

I stopped fidgeting and smiled. “Yeah? Well, I think you’re pretty cool, too.”

After another pause, I decided to lighten the mood. “So I’m gonna send you a little present from Hugh Hefner’s office. Think of it as a reward for being such a loyal subscriber.”

“Please don’t steal anything.”

“Christ, will you relax?” I told him. “I swear to God, you’re such a square.”

“As in… not a THIEF?!”

“Ask forgiveness, not permission,” I replied.

“That’s terrifying.”

“Well, it’s my motto, and I’d say it’s worked out pretty well so far.” I could hear David laughing. “Address, please?”

He gave me his mailing address and we said our goodbyes. Then he added:

“I really love you, you know.”

And I did know it. Even after all these years. “I love you, too,” I said. Then I hung up.

There, in the dark, my ear still warm from the phone, I felt unbearably at peace. But—unlike when I’d first entered Hef’s inner sanctum—my tranquility was not the result of invisibility or apathy. It was because I felt seen. I felt acceptance. I felt honest, and yet I still felt safe.

I slipped the notepad into my pocket and turned to leave. Halfway to the door I stopped myself. I returned to the desk, grabbed a pen, and added to my note:

PS—Not true, I actually took one of your notepads so I could send it to an old friend.

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