This Is Crazy Read online

  “She sounds horrible,” Zoe says and puts her hand around my arms.

  “She looks like she doesn’t give him anal,” Vivi says, looking at her own phone, “and he looks like he hasn’t had a good blow job since you left him.”

  “He didn’t really like foreplay,” I almost whisper, and Vivi’s head snaps up. She’s looking at me like I just told her Santa never really existed.

  “What?” she whispers, and I swear she looks like she is going to cry.

  “I mean, we did it, but every time I wanted to do it”—I look at Zoe who just shakes her head, telling me not to continue, but the words just come out—“he was not into it.”

  Vivi puts her hand to her mouth. “Are you sure you were doing it right?”

  I throw my hands up. “Yes, I’m sure. I even watched porn before I did it to make sure I was, you know …” I motion with my head up and down.

  “But did he”—she looks down at my vagina and then looks up—“you know?”

  “Stop,” Zoe says, “you should stop there.”

  “Once,” I tell her. “He didn’t really enjoy it.”

  “Oh, my God.” Vivienne slaps window. “How many times did you guys have sex?”

  “A couple of times,” I tell her.

  “A week?” she questions.

  “A month,” I tell her. “He was busy and under stress.”

  She throws her had back and moans. “But the couple of times that you did it went on for hours, right? Like all night?”

  Now, I’m the one shocked, and I gasp. “No, I mean it’s hard for men to get it up again after they …” I use my hands going big and small.

  “This is worse than I thought,” Vivi says, and then Zoe looks at her.

  “Oh, trust me, it’s worse,” Zoe says, and then Vivi looks back at me. “There was only a happy ending for one of them.”

  “Shut the front door,” Vivienne shrieks at the top of her lungs, and the car comes to a stop.

  “I had happy endings.” I glare at Zoe, who equally glares at me. “By myself.” Vivienne doesn’t have a chance to answer because her door is opened, and she has to get out.

  I smack Zoe’s arm, and she laughs, getting out of the car, and I follow. “This explains why you are always wearing black,” Vivienne says, and then I look at her.

  “Can we please not talk about this?” I tell her, and she just nods.

  “My lips are sealed, but honey, you need to get laid,” she says and turns to walk to the entrance used by the players and family members. “But tomorrow, that’s another story.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, looking up at the concrete ceiling and feeling Zoe put her arm around my shoulder.

  “It could be worse,” she says, and I look at her. “We could be at a male strip club right now, and you could be fighting off the baby oil.” I close my eyes and picture it. “Don’t close your eyes for too long.”

  I shake my head and make my way inside, not sure what tonight will hold.

  Chapter Three

  Zara

  “You think she’s faking?” I hear whispering next to my ear, but my eyes stay closed.

  “I don’t know,” the other little voice says, “but her breath stinks.” And I can’t even stop the laughter from coming out of my mouth, shocking my sister Allison’s two kids, Michael and Alexandria, who are leaning against my bed. I try to grab them, but they run out of the room screaming.

  “She’s awake,” Michael says. Tossing over the covers, I get out of bed. I’m in my old bedroom, and everything is pretty much the same as before I went to college. The walls are still a soft pink. My white desk sits in the corner with a huge cork board hanging over it with pictures from high school. I go to the walk-in closet and grab the robe that I keep there. The only thing I actually took from this closest were the cool clothes or at least what I thought were cool. I walk out, going down the spiral staircase to the kitchen connected to the family room.

  My mother is at the stove flipping pancakes, her auburn hair piled on top of her head.

  “Who sent the rats to wake me up?” I ask. Walking to the coffee machine, I start my coffee and look over at my mother, who smiles at me.

  “Good morning,” she says. When my father comes in and goes straight to her, kissing her neck, I look out the window. He is always kissing her or touching her or holding her hand as far back as I can remember. The coffee machine stops, and I walk to the fridge and look at my parents. My father stands behind her, his hands on her hips while he looks over her head to watch SportsCenter on the television.

  “Evan Richards is having the year of his life,” my father says, not moving his hand but looking over at me and smiling. “Good morning, princess,” he says, still using the nickname from when I was younger. I mean, I think Allison is thirty, and he still calls her princess.

  “Morning,” I say, going over to the table to sit and watch the television. I hate Evan Richards only because Ed loved him. Like worshiped him. I look at him on the screen while he celebrates a goal with his cocky smile. His teeth are probably fake, I think to myself.

  “He needs to shave all that scruff,” I say to the room, and my father just shakes his head. I feel bad for him. He was the biggest name in hockey, and he still is a legend, but Zara and I used to cry and scream as soon as he took out the skates. Luckily for us, he had Matthew and Justin.

  “Honey, beards are sexy,” my mother says, which earns her a glare from my clean-shaven father. “Well, not all beards are sexy.”

  “Babe,” he growls and leans in to whisper something in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and she laughs.

  “Go away.” She pushes him away with her hip.

  “Morning.” I hear a grumble and watch Zoe dragging her feet as she walks in the room. “Those two gave me a heart attack.” She walks to the coffee. “I opened my eyes and came face to face with Alex.” I laugh. “She didn’t even say anything. I thought she was possessed.”

  “Oh, good, you two are up,” Allison says, coming into the room with her two kids behind her. My sister is seven years older than me. She was five when my dad came into the picture, but her father is a douche and slowly erased himself from their lives. “I owe them twenty dollars each,” she says, turning to high-five her kids. She is dressed in jeans and a sweater, but she looks great in everything. It’s why she landed her husband, Max. Or at least that’s what I always say.

  “Now go play in the basement. Aunt Karrie and Aunt Vivi are coming over in a bit.” They turn and run toward the basement.

  Great, I think to myself, more kids. My brother Matthew and Karrie have four kids, two boys and two girls, and I swear I call them the Duggars. Karrie says the factory is closed, but Matthew just shrugs when she says that. “Accidents happen,” is his go-to saying.

  “I want to play with the hockey sticks too,” Alex says, going down the stairs to the basement. My parents love their kids, but they love their grandkids even more. The basement is literally a toy store.

  “Why would you pay your kids to wake us up?” Zoe asks, sliding into a chair next to me. She is wearing almost the same thing as me without the robe, and her hair is also tied on top of her head.

  “It’s payback for all the times you woke me up when you were kids.” She smirks and goes to kiss my dad’s cheek.

  “Suck-up,” Zoe mumbles and just laughs at her while I just shake my head.

  “We were kids,” I tell her, and she just shrugs. Zoe opens her phone to scroll through her Instagram. “Are we having a family lunch?” I ask my parents and then turn when I hear Zoe gasp. Her eyes fly to mine, and when they go wide, I know something is up. And from the look of horror on her face, it’s bad. Like tsunami bad.

  “Oh. My. God,” she says and puts her hand on the top of her phone to block what she’s looking at. Her eyes fly to Allison. “I need backup,” she says, and the way her voice comes out, Allison springs into action, getting on my other side. I look at both of them, and we are distracted when Karrie yells from the fron
t door.

  “We are here,” she shouts, and the kids run in with a hurricane of kisses and hugs before they run off to the basement. They went traditional, and all their kids’ names have to do with family members. Cooper is named after my dad and is the biggest honor that Matthew could have given him. Frances is named after Karrie’s mom who passed away. There is Vivienne, who, thankfully, is nothing like her namesake. Then there is baby Allison, who is just starting to get her own sass, and she gets that from us apparently. She slashed Cooper in the mouth two months ago, and he needed five stitches. She looked at them with her big blue eyes, and said, “He’s a puke ass bitch.” We almost died when Matthew looked at us and glared.

  “What’s going on?” she asks innocently, stopping mid step into the kitchen to look at us. Vivi knocks into her from behind. My heart won’t stop hammering in my chest.

  “Things are about to go through the roof,” Zoe says and then turns to me. “I need you to take a deep breath.” Which makes everything so worse than before. Why would I need to take a deep breath? The worst-case scenarios are going through my mind. Wardrobe malfunction to one of the Hollywood stars, worst-dressed list. So many things.

  “Holy shit, is there a paparazzi picture of one of my clients?” My hand goes to my chest, but she just shakes her head.

  “It’s worse,” she whispers, and I see the tears forming in her eyes. I reach over and snatch the phone out of her hands. She tries to snatch it back, but she’s too late. I see it there.

  The picture is in color this time. Ed kissing his new girlfriend, but what my eyes fly to is the hand she is holding up with a diamond ring glistening on her finger. “Get my phone,” she shouts, and they all spring into action, trying to get the phone from me, and I’m caught off guard.

  Allison grabs my phone, Karrie grabs the remote to turn off the television, my mother rushes to my side, and Vivi rushes to the wine fridge and pulls out three bottles.

  “What is going on?” My father just stands in the middle of the kitchen. Shocked and confused, he darts his eyes from one person to the other.

  “MOTHERFUCKER,” I yell at the top of my lungs, shooting out of my chair. Rage, anger, and hurt fill me.

  “Oh my God,” my father whispers, but he still doesn’t move as he watches me start to pace. The women around the room spring into action. My mother comes to my side, but I can’t stop walking. Zoe comes to stand next to her while Allison looks at the phone. Her eyes come to me when she finally reads what I just read.

  “That motherfucker,” she says and tosses the phone to Karrie who gasps out loud. She puts the phone down on the counter with more force than she should and then walks to the fridge for the bottle of tequila.

  “What the hell is going on? Can someone please tell me what is going on?” my father asks, rubbing his hands through his hair.

  No one answers him. Vivi pours the wine while Karrie pours a shot of tequila and brings it over to me. “This isn’t going to help, but it can’t hurt,” she says. I take the shot from her and swallow it down, and it burns the whole way down.

  “For the love of God, I need one of you women to tell me what is going on,” he shouts. “Why am I the only man around here?”

  “He’s getting married,” I tell my father after accepting another shot of tequila. Coughing after I swallow it down, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Ed is getting married.” I shake my head. “That pencil dick lying motherfucker is getting married.”

  “Oh, honey,” my mother says from beside me.

  Vivienne now goes over to the cell phone and grabs it, reading the caption out loud. “When you find the one, you take the leap. Marry me.” She rolls her eyes and pretends to gag. “Le trou du cul.” Asshole, she says in French.

  “That pencil dick motherfucker,” I say now angry again. “I knew he was a tool. You told me he was a tool.” I point at Zoe who just nods.

  “I did,” she says, and I start to pace again, the heat from the tequila spreading through me.

  “Oh no, baby, it’s not you, it’s me.” I imitate him, sounding like a whiny baby. “I’m just tired, baby.”

  “She never even had a happy ending,” Vivienne says from the counter while she drinks her glass of wine. Karrie walks up to her and grabs it from her, gulping it down.

  “I don’t want to hear this,” my father says. “Are you going to be okay?” He comes to me and puts his hand on my arms, bringing me to his chest. My face rests in the middle of his chest, the safest place I can be.

  “Of course, she’s going to be okay,” Zoe says, going to get her own shot of tequila. She winces when she swallows and then gags. “That’s shit is fucking disgusting.” She points at the bottle.

  “I’m going to go down with the kids,” my father says, kissing my mother’s lips. “Love you.”

  “Ugh Dad, not now.” I groan at him. He just laughs and walks out of the room.

  “So what are you going to do?” Karrie asks me, and I look at her.

  I shrug. “I have no fucking idea.”

  “We should send him a box of vibrators,” Vivienne says, then looks at Karrie. “Remember when Matthew threw all yours out?”

  We all groan now. “Right in the middle of the street.”

  Allison can’t help but laugh and neither can I. “I need to see the picture again,” I tell them and grab the phone from the counter where it was laid after making its way through everyone’s hand. I look at the picture; his hands are on her face. “He’s such an asshole.”

  “He is,” Karrie says, “but you can’t let him get to you.”

  “Well, you can let him get to you,” Zoe says, and I look at her in shock. “But then you take all that energy, and we devise a plan to castrate him.”

  “Girls,” my mother says, shaking her head. I am not going to lie, we are a handful, and no matter how many times we said we would be good, it would just go downhill and fast. The number of times they got pulled into the office at school was a record, and I swear the teachers let out a collective sigh of relief when we graduated.

  “What?” Zoe puts her hands up. “I mean Allison”—she looks at her—“you watch Game of Thrones. Don’t they do that, and the guy still lives, right?”

  “It’s true. You can survive without a penis,” Allison says, then hears my mother groan. “But I don’t suggest you guys cut off his penis.”

  “Thank you,” my mother says.

  “Fuck that,” Vivienne says. “Hit him where it hurts.”

  “Yeah,” Zoe says, nodding. “Hit him where it hurts, but will it hurt if he doesn’t even use it?”

  “Vivienne,” Karrie hisses, “not helping.”

  My father walks back in the room. “Is everything okay in here?”

  “We’re talking castration, but it hasn’t been decided,” my mother says, wringing her hands while my father’s eyes go big.

  “Oh, I know,” I say, running upstairs and grabbing my phone. “That fucker wants to get married.” I laugh bitterly, opening Twitter. “I’m crashing his fucking wedding.”

  “Oh dear God,” Karrie says while Vivienne cheers me on, earning her another glare but this time from my parents also.

  “What are you doing?” my father asks, and I smile, almost like a Cheshire cat with the mouse tail flipping my mouth.

  “I am getting myself the hottest date out there, and we are going to go and congratulate that pencil dick asshole.”

  “What do you mean by getting yourself a date?” my father asks, his face going white. “Are you hiring an escort? Zara Stone,” he hisses out my name.

  “Not exactly,” I say, smiling. “I’m going to do better.”

  “Why am I the only male in this house?” he yells and sits down on one of the stools, and my mother walks to him. “She is going to give me a heart attack.”

  “Oh my,” I hear from Allison laughing on the side, “this is going to be so good.”

  “What is going on now?” my father asks, and then she hands him the phone
and displays what I just did two seconds ago.

  Zara Stone @ZaraStone

  When your ex-boyfriend gets engaged, you ask his idol @EvanRichards to be your date to crash his wedding. What do you say? Wanna be my date?

  #myexhasapencildick

  Zoe reads it and turns to high-five me while Karrie rolls her lips, trying not to laugh. Allison puts her hands in front of her mouth, and Vivienne just nods, drinking her wine. My phone beeps, and my father looks at me. “I think he answered.”

  I grab the phone from him just when I hear Karrie’s cell phone ring. Her eyes look from the phone to me. “It’s Matthew.”

  “Did he answer you?” Zoe asks, and I open my Twitter.

  Evan Richards @EvanRichards

  Sounds like a plan. DM me.

  Zoe laughs out loud. “Yeah buddy, you better DM him right now.”

  “What does that even mean? Why is this happening?” My father just moans.

  “It’s happening because he is a pencil dick asshole who basically lied with the whole ‘I have so much work, and I have to focus on that’ bullshit. Well, guess what? I’m going to get the last laugh,” I tell him, and he just shakes his head.

  “Matthew is freaking out,” Karrie says, trying not to laugh with the phone by her ear. “Hold on, let me put him on speaker.”

  “Zara.” His voice fills the room. “Are you out of your mind?” he asks in one breath and then continues. “No, don’t answer that. We all know you are out of your mind.”

  “Hey, Matthew,” I say, and he stops talking. “Is it true you threw out Karrie’s vibrator?”

  “Who told her that?” he hisses. “I have to be on the ice in twenty minutes. I don’t have time for this today.”

  “Who asked you to get involved?” Zoe says. “I mean, you won’t even let your wife have a vibrator. She looks deprived.”

  “She isn’t deprived,” he says, “and the date with Evan is never going to happen.”

  “Matthew Grant,” Karrie pipes in, “don’t you dare. Your sister is brokenhearted.”