Free Objectify Me: A Fireworks Novella (The Fireworks Novellas) by Bibi Rizer

escapees crossing the road in precarious shoes. The horizon ahead to the east is just starting to lighten to a purplish blue. And I’m wishing somehow this night would never end. But I know Levi just wants to go home – to collect his troublemaking friends and get the hell out of this crazy-ass town. Who could blame him? And it’s not like I’m anything special for him to hang around for – a lap dancing dropout with a fucked up family. God knows what he thinks of me.
    I could just leave it there, but I’m tired and sad now. Talking about my father always brings me down, and thinking about how trapped I am makes me even sadder. And the icing on the cake is that this nice young man probably thinks I’m some kind of slut. That I can’t live with.
    “You know, I’ve never done that before,” I say before I can stop myself.
    “Done what?”
    “Had sex with a guy from the club. I don’t do that.”
    “Oh. Okay,” he says.
    “I know my family is trashy, but I’m not.”
    He turns to look at me. “Of course you’re not.”
    “I had a scholarship to UNO. I had it all planned. I was going to focus on hydraulics and work on the levies.”
    “In case there’s a another tidal surge?” he asks “Like in Katrina? That’s awesome.”
    “The lap dancing thing – I have to do it for money.”
    “I know. Why are you telling me this?”
    The GPS on my phone tells me it’s time to turn off St. Bernard. I head right, down towards the swamp. The Cypress trees along the road drip with ghostly Spanish moss, turned blue in my headlights.
    And I let it all out. Everything I would probably tell a therapist if I could afford one. “I don’t want…I’m just trying to get…I don’t like the idea of you bragging to your friends about making it with some stripper in the Big Easy. I probably should have thought of that before having sex with you but…well…I don’t know why I did it. You seemed nice, and you’re really cute, and I’ve just been really… depressed I guess. It’s depressing what I do, dancing for old fat lawyers and bankers, when I had dreams about saving this city. Anyway, I just have to deal with it for now, but I guess I wanted to pretend I had a nice, decent man for a few hours.”
    This would be the moment he says ‘let’s connect on Facebook and keep in touch. You could come visit. We could Skype,’ but he just sits there, looking out at the trees flying by us.
    “ Your destination is ahead on the left ,” my phone says, and the moment passes.
    “I wasn’t going to brag to my friends,” he says. “I’m not like that.”
    Of course he’s not. Now I’ve completely screwed it up. Whatever it was. Which was basically nothing.
    “So, I’ll just go and find Omar and Buck. Will you wait for us?”
    Change the subject. Good strategy. “I’ll come in with you.”
    “No way! A party like that is no place for a lady.”
    I slow down, park across the street from a large warehouse, and turn to look at him. “You seriously think I’m more likely to get into trouble than you are?” I ask. “Baby, you picked up a lap dancer on Bourbon Street. You are not to be trusted.”
    “I don’t normally do that either,” he says.
    “So what’s your excuse? Depression? Anxiety? Obsessive-compulsive politeness disorder? Just couldn’t say no?”
    “I don’t know. I think I was just doing as I was told. You told me to pick up a girl. The doorman at the guesthouse said the same thing. I guess I’m obedient.”
    “Well, lucky I came along then.”
    “Yeah.” He takes a breath. “I mean that, Charlotte. I’m really glad I met you.”
    Oh, how I wish he hadn’t said that. I was just starting to get my fingertips around letting him go, dismissing him as just another jerk, and moving on with my sad little life. I open the door and get out onto the cold, empty street. Levi jumps out and joins me on the road, putting his arm around me protectively as we cross.
    “So what’s our plan when we get