1.
For anyone just walking in; the reversal of the usual seating arrangement, much less their usual dynamic to a degree, might feel a little peculiar:
Madaline Mellor was tired but couldn't feel it, the least of reasons being how buzzed and tweaked she also was. It must be said these three elements made for a dangerous combination, but those were also comparatively minor considerations in the moment, because as they raced down the highway, Madaline was, more than anything else, fascinated, a little frightened and, yes, if it must be admitted, more than a little turned on by how quick Amber had acquainted herself with the car. Though on that final point, it would not be a completely unworkable argument to make that, her current status effects aside, Madaline seemed to have entered or was entering a period where watching Amber read a book or compose a grocery list or floss, might be enough arouse Madaline's baser instincts.
Music filled the space, an electronic storm, drum heavy, sample of a woman moaning, ”Babygirl, you're such a live wire don’t you think the world should see you totally...”
Amber cranked the gearshift and zoomed out of a pack of vehicles leaving them as dots dwindling in the distance.
Madaline had been too freaked earlier to really process the details she could now appreciate, Amber had taken to driving her vehicle with so few issues, minor stops and starts, sure; but following that, off she went, cruising down the road, as though she were piloting a steamboat down an empty serene river instead of navigating the better quickstep chaos that was South Providence traffic in the middle of the day.
The sample whispered like honey with a distorted vibrato, "You’re such a lightning rod, babygirl, you gotta let me electrify your life.” The song was intense and lovely, but nothing compared to the music Madaline had heard earlier.
With the initial ordeal resolved and the rest of the day laying ahead, the prospect of going somewhere new, Amber was grinning, her teeth going flash in the light, opening the car up with Madaline's permission: 80, 85, 90. Weaving in and out of traffic, handling the vehicle with an absence of stress or strain, even at the increasing speed she was manipulating the controls with an easy expertise that made Madaline more than a little envious.
”You and me, me and you, sparks flying, we should be having fun!”
“Having a good time?” Madaline asked, glancing at the mapped citizen traffic report, piped in from her phone to the console, looking out for law enforcement ahead.
“Mmmhmmm, it’s so good.”
”Babygirl, isn’t this the best?”
Amber was pushing 100.
Out of the fact that it was the middle of the day Madaline thought about telling her to let off some, she glanced again at the traffic report, then at the RD display, there were no badges anywhere near them.
They were only a few minutes out from the Greenhaven exit, Madaline decided the truly criminal act would be to tell a thing of such lovliness to show restraint when not utterly necessary, so she turned up the stereo and let Amber drive.
”Babygirl, you’re such a live wire, don’t you think the world should see you, totally unfettered?”
2.
Roughly Two Hours Earlier:
Amber had already put away two cups of coffee and was mopping the hall when she heard Madaline come downstairs late, she was well past her wake up time, Amber had been about to go check on her.
Then the front door was opening and closing and just as Amber was about to run to the window to see if Madaline had missed her alarms and was bolting to make an early morning meeting, Madaline came around the corner with her arms full of boxes.
“Special delivery, yawned Madaline, sitting the boxes on the counter, and scratching her belly. “Morning by the way.”
“Are those?” Amber asked.
“All for you.”
Amber rushed to the containers, finding a kitchen knife and proceeding to empty the boxes of their guts, running her hands one by one over fabrics and materials, holding them, pressing tops over her chest.
Madaline smiled and watched her for a moment, before moving around to the coffee pot and making herself a cup.
She drank.
Then Amber was coming across the room and flinging her arms around Madaline.
Madaline put an arm around her and hugged her back, then after a moment set her cup aside, and crossed her coffee arm over the other, forming a protective X, resting her chin upon Amber's head. She could smell Amber's hair.
To an outside observer they stood there for far longer than the gesture required.
When they did part:
“Thank you so much Madaline… for everything.”
"It was your money princess, this," she waved her hand at the boxes and clothes, "this is the bare minimum of what you deserve."
"You helped, you help me with so much."
“I'm happy to help. Seriously Amber, anytime you need-” From her pocket Madaline’s phone began to play Frontier Psychiatrist by the Avalanches. “Ah, just give me a sec, I have to take this.”
Amber nodded and refilled her own cup of coffee, sipping and waiting to finish hearing what Madaline had been saying.
Madaline answered her phone, “Papa Corleone's famous assassins, you cut me a check, I cut you a neck, what can I do for you lady?” Madaline deadpanned.
She smirked as Amber snorted into her coffee, then her grin plummeted as a voice on the other end of the call began to chirp.
Madaline suddenly seemed very awake. “What… Come on… you’re not fucking serious?” Madaline cracked a thumb against the table. “E… E… come on, come on… I… I don’t have anyone else ready for this- I was relying on you… I forgot…. can’t you get out of it, like, I really- I already had things go wrong last time and didn't get it done... yeah, I know but I... I just... forgot... again. Fuck I really needed you for this.”
Madaline yanked her phone away from her head as somebody became hyper verbal and very loud on the other end. After a moment, Madaline put it back to her ear and said in a far softer voice, “Okay, I’m sorry, you’re right, I knew this was a possibility with you as first option and I should have had someone on standby… your stuff is very important… this is not your fault, this is on me, this is my fuck up… I need to get off the phone and find someone else fast… Yeah, I know, I’m sorry… look, I gotta go E... I luv you too.”
Madaline hung up.
Amber watched Madaline as she stood incredibly still for a moment, her hands snapped at her sides, her foot first rose to its ball and began to bounce, tapping gently on the floor. She looked at Amber, seeming to remember that she was there. “Ah, right…”
“Is everything okay?”
Madaline swallowed, “Just a minor... pain in the ass, it’s not the best way to start my day, I’m really sorry princess, we’re going to have to pick this up later, just hold on to what you were saying and we’ll chat about it… if not when I’m done, then... tonight.”
Madaline pirouetted away from Amber, took her coffee and her phone and rushed out, going back up the stairs, heading for her room.
“I wasn’t actually saying anything, you were.” Amber mumbled,
Amber stood there, leaning on her mop, scratching a little at the handle, filled with concern, while also feeling a little, unfairly she reminded herself, upset that the nice moment they'd seemed to be having had just been made irrelevant so easily, but such feelings weren’t going to get the floor mopped so she did as Amber does, she pushed the feeling down and went back to swabbing.
3.
By the time Madaline closed the door to her room, her jukebox had thrown down Zithromax Jitters by J.G. Thirwell, an instrumental that seemed perfectly designed not only to represent panic, but to sonically embody and induce it in anyone who wasn’t already flying towards hysteria. It did nothing to pacify the creeping sensation that an army of spiders were marching up and down her veins.
Okay, stop for a sec, time for a pep talk: Nope! Not Happening! You are not losing your shit before you even get there. You have outrun cops, you have had a shotgun held on you and managed to crack a joke, you jumped off the Marbleporte bridge on a dare when no one else would. You flirted with and asked out Stephanie Frasier, a month after coming out and not only got shot down, but her and her buddies tried to humiliate you for it and what did you do, you held your head high, smiled in their fucking faces and gave them all the finger. You have been in a stupid amount of fights and have gotten on stage in front of a couple hundred people and made them all either hate you or love you… you will not freak out because Estelle got called to work. You are not going to go alone, someone else is going to be free.
Madaline took a deep breath, trying to lower her heart rate.
Kay, first things first, in case you have to talk someone into cutting work or class or whatever for this, you have to get smooth so first get this fucking song out of your head.
The jukebox continued to screech away.
Madaline keyed her actual speaker on, the dulcet symphonic cacophony of DJ Otherside, opening with an anthemic phrase that Madaline felt an honest, heartfelt and soulful resonance with:
"My life is so much better when I’m wasted!”
What a concept, they know it’s true and so do I, so preparation, stage two, chill pill, small amount, do not over do it.
The song going around her and the song in her head clashed horribly as she opened her lock box. She extracted 2 pills and a mirror, then with a practiced hand she turned them into fine powder. She divvied herself up a starter bump, railed it and collapsed back in her chair, washing down the small amount of sweet drip draining from her nasal cavity to her throat with cooling coffee.
If I’m not supposed to take them like candy, why do they taste like candy?
She let herself lounge, the sickly feeling of fear rolling back and oh glory, her jukebox clicked off, she turned her real speaker down, but not off, yeah, things felt more manageable now, she could make this work, she could still make this happen today and get it off her plate for the next quarter of a year, not to mention avoiding the real issue which was potentially getting dropped if she didn’t get it done, but there was no reason to think too much about that ugly possibility, she would find somebody to help her through the actual hard part.
She opened her phone back up and started going down the short list of people she trusted with this matter and started calling them in alphabetic order:
She tried Cameron first and got their voice mail, she left them an inviting message in regards to the familiar issue that Madaline was facing with promises of an enjoyable afternoon post the helping part if they called back soon. An enjoyable afternoon featuring: Lunch, sexual favors, and paint ball, which Cameron had a thing for.
Next was Hymara. Hymara picked up and was very very apologetic that she was stuck working and no she absolutely could not get out of it, even if Madaline was offering a very enjoyable afternoon, that involved lunch, sexual favors and a trip out to the Mis-U Gardens which Hymara had a thing for.
Madaline didn’t think about the third name, as by this point her sense of optimism was receding rapidly. Fucking shit luck.
She didn’t think about who it was she was calling, just that she needed someone who’d helped her with this before, she was just in Madaline's phone, her name was just next on the list…
The voice at the other end of the dialed number brought the fact of Madaline's mistake into cutting focus, reaching into her chest and making multiple incisions in her heart that immediately began to bleed. “Hi, this is Jasmine Eyda, if you know me, please leave a message.”
Madaline sat, limp in her seat, her mouth open as she actually thought about what she’d done, the tone came and she continued to sit there, then softly, “Um, hey… Jazz."
If Amber had been listening, she would've been alarmed that Madaline's voice was at this moment weaker than she'd ever heard it.
"It’s, ah… it’s Madaline," she spoke louder, but her voice cracked at the second A in her name. She swallowed, "Look, ah, this isn’t… I’m not trying to like fuck with you… or anything… it’s um, that time again, you know, doctor thing I need help with, right, and I was just… going down the list of people who help with it and… for some reason you’re… still in my contacts and… I just… Estelle canceled on me and I’m half way down the list of people who know and go with me so… I’m... kind of… panicking a little… I’m really late, cause.... I was late last month when I went… but didn’t get the job done, cause I went alone and… it went pretty bad so… look… I’m not asking you, obviously I'm not asking you... for... for obvious reasons, right, you're probably.... somewhere.... I'm just trying to explain why I’m… in your messages… right... this won’t happen again I promise… I’m going to let you go, um, sorry about calling out of nowhere, it was an honest mistake... and sorry again…. About… everything… whatever… just sorry…. I’m going to go and I’ll delete your number and ah…” she blew out a long stream of air. “Yeah, have a good life, Jazz.”
She ended the call and sat back. Truth be told, if she wasn’t already high on benzos and dealing with the problem currently at hand, that phone call might well have ruined her whole day.
She reached for her mirror, did another minor bump, then went into her contacts and pulled up Jazz’s number, hit delete and got the confirmation prompt. A minute later she was still sitting there, she cursed herself and hit cancel and kept on with her calls.
Ophelia was next, Ophelia answered.
Madaline extended an offer involving $50.00, lunch, sexual favors and a trip to the Go Cart Park Ophelia had a thing for.
Ophelia said she would, except she was about 4 hours out of town on an anniversary trip with Damian, her boyfriend.
Madaline now feeling quite doomed, got in a little bit of good natured teasing and wished them well, inviting Ophelia to do go carts and stuff some time soon in the future, while privately wishing, for the first time today though not for the first time in the last week, that she possessed a vial of a highly deadly, highly selective strain of a communicable disease that could wipe out all cis men on the planet.
She sighed and dialed the last number, Rikka did not answer, if R was at the start of the alphabet, Madaline would still have called Rikka last.
Madaline left her what she felt was a fairly even toned and amiable message, “Rikka you stoned bitch wake the fuck up right now, I know for damn sure you don’t have anything scheduled before four, wake up. It’s my time of once every three months and I’m already late… Please, Rikka, wake up. I need your help, please don’t make me have to talk to someone else about this please, please wake up. SOS SOS SOS you bitch.” She sighed and capped the message off, with the offer that given how desperate Madaline was she would show her gratitude in the form of $50.00, food, an immediate drive up to Madaline’s storage unit to retrieve the bong she owned that Rikka coveted, which Madaline would gift to her, followed by them going back to Rikka’s, and making use of the aforementioned bong on Rikka’s couch while Madaline performed sexual favors and they watched The Prisoner, which Rikka had a thing for.
Madaline gently bounced her head off the edge of her desk, she’d give them ten minutes but then she’d need to start calling others, she couldn’t miss this, her doctor wouldn’t have it, Madaline didn’t know for sure if she might drop Madaline over it, but she really didn’t want to test the threat.
With a sick little indignant feeling Madaline began to scroll down through her extensive contacts trying to decide who would be a good candidate to extend the offer to, who she felt the least squeamish about directly exposing to the experience. A lot of people liked her and a lot of people owed her favors, but that really wasn’t the issue. Given that she’d used Rikka a couple of times that almost certainly meant half of everyone knew a version of Madaline’s problem, or had heard but doubted it because the information came from Rikka, no, it was more about who Madaline could deal with sitting there seeing her in such a state.
The best candidates were Dalilah or Luna, maybe Imani. She hovered for a minute over Megan. Megan knew and had done it before, she was perfect for the second half of this process and she was definitely free, the problem was while Megan had a drivers license, or rather three, Madaline wasn’t sure any of them were real and even if one of them was, it had generally been agreed upon by all parties without ever talking about it that Megan wasn’t ever again to be allowed behind the wheel of a car for any reason whatsoever… not after last time.
She wasn’t letting Megan drive her car and she didn’t feel great about going by cab or bus given how doped up she had to be for this.
Madaline sat staring into her phone, as the minutes ticked by, she heard Amber going up the steps and into Simon’s room, then back down and back up, she was bringing her boxes upstairs.
At last she listened to Amber finish and re-enter the hall, first there were footsteps going away, but they didn’t hit the stairs, a minute passed and the footsteps came back towards Madaline’s door.
There was a soft knock followed by a soft voice. “Hey, Madaline… is… is everything going... okay?”
Madaline looked at her phone and willed it to ring.
“Yeah… ah… yeah… you can come in if you want, princess.”
Amber entered, “Are you… done with your calls.”
Madaline shrugged.
“Just waiting to see if someone calls me back… I’ve got this thing I need… it’s a pain.”
Amber chewed her lip, “Is there… some way I can maybe... help? Maybe?” she asked carefully, uncertain, but also almost hopeful.
Madaline pressed her lips together, tapped her foot, looked at her phone with no alerts, then back at Amber.
She really didn't feel like it being Amber, the idea was mortifying in so many ways, but there was a person offering to help right in front of her and she probably shouldn't shoot a gift horse in the mouth when it was early and 80% of her people were primarily to totally anti-day oriented to one degree or another.
Goddfuckingdamnit.
“Yeah, yeah I kind of need… a hand.”
“Okay, what do you need?”
Madaline sucked her teeth, she picked up her keys and held them up, “For starters…” Goddamnit I really don’t want her to see me this way, fuck! “Can you drive stick?”
Amber looked uncertain just long enough for Madaline’s mouth to tense with the almost relieved words, it’s okay I’ll figure it out. Then to Madaline’s surprise, Amber’s head made a slow bob up and down.
“You can?”
Hesitation, but then another slow bob, certainty growing.
“How…,” Madaline licked her lips. “When was the last time you drove stick?”
“I learned when I was fourteen or so.”
A minor micro freeze occurred in Amber’s face, there and gone, it was either too fast or Madaline was too high and stressed to catch it.
Amber blinked and shook her head, taking a step forward, “But… I can… I can do it, I’ve been…” a tinge to her ears, “I’ve been watching you for the last couple months.”
“That’s sweet princess, but watching isn’t-”
“No, but I already knew, so it was a refresher, I’ll get it and I’ll get it really quick… if it’s what you need, if you need help. I can do it, I promise.” Another small step, a little more certain.
Madaline clenched the keys in her hand, she didn’t just let anyone drive her car which was to say she didn’t let anyone drive her car, unless she knew they were skilled and it was the most dire of circumstances. She was about to turn Amber down when she remembered something, an image that by now sat in the frequent visits file of her memory, except it was no longer tinged with the erotic context that she often sought the memory out for, cutting in fantasies of alternative timelines where Amber had not left the bathroom so quickly after patching Madaline up.
She remembered just how calm Amber had become while the work of fixing Madaline’s foot was underway, calm and still, from the moment she’d come in, she’d entered almost a state of hyper focus that had seemed to skim out the lion’s share of her anxiety, letting her see and think clearly about the task at hand… Madaline had never thought of it before in that light and for a moment she was wondering if the memory was accurate and yes, she thought it was, but would that extend to… she had to make a decision.
She thought of the lesser of two evils, going through the appointment without the necessary preparations vs the risk of finding out now if that state she’d seen Amber enter might be accessible in other circumstances. But in the end, she doesn’t actually answer that question, in the end, what tipped the scales wasn’t fear, it was curiosity. Madaline wanted to know.
“We’ll leave early to give you some time… to get used to it. Can you be ready in an hour?”
“Mmmhmm.”
4.
Forty five minutes later Amber knocked once more on Madaline’s closed door. “Just a sec, getting ready.” Madaline railed the fat line of powder on the mirror, pressed on her other nostril once again and snorted it back. When finished she checked her eyes in the dusted reflective surface, Yep good and fucked.
The drugs were working, she felt decently calm, a sense of oncoming doom held back by a wall of gentle wellbeing that wouldn’t likely start to crack until they were in the parking lot.
Yeah, fine, if Amber could handle the drive, stage one was going to be fine.
She put the leftover powder into a bullet, licked off the mirror, put the tools back in her lockbox and shoved it under her mattress. Her coat went on, she dabbed a tissue on her tongue and ran the wet edge under her nose to clean up any residue, then went for the door, remembering at the last second to put on her sunglasses before opening it.
Amber was behind the door, she'd redressed herself in some of her new clothes and the coat.
“Oh,” Madaline said, her voice small and surprised. Rawring Twenties, she thought, stopping herself from giggling.
It would be completely incorrect to say that the other night Amber had picked out a bunch of clothes that made her look like a 1920s flapper. It would be more accurate to say that the garments she’d gravitated towards gave off an energy that could perhaps be best described as neo-flapperesq when they were equipped to Amber’s build, haircut and makeup, which was certainly heavier today. The look was what it was because Amber was wearing it.
Madaline liked it. She privately wondered if anything Amber wore that she enjoyed would give off the same vibe, Madaline’s treacherous brain flickered off to a rather scandalous swimsuit section before she seized control of it.
With that Madaline became hyper-conscious of the fact that it was good she was on the way to the doctor, given how badly she’d shot herself in the foot. Yep. Clearly what has happened is I ODed and this is hell. I am in hell. This is the most perverse fucking punishment for all of my sins. Should have left her in the fucking dysphoria hoodies. This is bad. How is this getting worse? Why?
“Oh?” Amber asked.
Madaline jolted, “Ah, yeah, like, ah, oh… right…. We should go cause it’s time to go,” she laughed. “You look… great, princess… Hot girl outre. Right.”
Amber cocked her head at Madaline, looking her up and down. She couldn’t see Madaline’s eyes behind her sunglasses, but she was almost wavering on her feet, like she was just slightly dizzy. “Are you… don’t take this the wrong way, but… have you… been drinking?”
“No,” Madaline laughed, snapping her fingers and pointing.
Amber chewed her lip, not sure she believed her, then thought back to an exchange she and Madaline had the first time they’d sat next to each other. Amber had asked if Madaline was addicted to drugs, Madaline had responded, Not addicted.
“Are you... high?”
Madaline wavered a bit, “Just… a little… massively, I’ll, um, get my feet under me soonish, but ask the wonderful bitch who canceled on me and the other si- five lovable lovely bitches who couldn’t help or wouldn’t pick up, it’s medically necessary, it’s for the cause..”
Amber nodded, “Okay... are you good to walk to the car?”
“Yep, for the next five minutes, no I’m fucking with you. I’m good. I’m good. This is nothing,” Madaline rubbed her nose, sniffling, “Did you change your makeup?”
Amber blushed, seemed just the slightest bit uncomfortable, “Just did a little more, I’ve been thinking about… I had this dream the other night, and it made me want to get back into it… playing with... makeup... I don’t remember anything else about it. Just my make up.” It was an odd comment said in an odd guarded way, in her current state Madaline didn’t notice it.
“Cool, it looks,” Madaline searched for a word that would be within the precepts of the song of sublimation, “Looks cool.”
“Thanks,” Amber glowed.
Madaline tossed the keys, “Let’s go, shotgun.”
Amber snatched them from the air.
And that was how Madaline and Amber set out on an ill planned outing that would conclude with something that was in no way, nor under any terms, any sort of any kind of a date.
5.
Madaline's curiosity had fled by the time they approached her car in the drive, leaving her feeling primarily apprehensive about putting Amber behind the wheel, but by then it was too late to turn back and then again, considering what they were headed towards, which Madaline was having an increasing level of difficulty at ignoring, apprehensive was largely the name of the state of her entire being.
Subsequent to adjusting the seat to account for their substantial difference in heights and talking Amber through a shift diagram refresher, Madaline was forced to correct her three times in the first three blocks, but following that she never had to correct Amber about how to drive her car again.
Amber herself, predictably, started out with a moderate level of background anxiety that turned to a very nasty shock of disbelief when she actually hit the accelerator and once they were on the road part of her very much wanted to call the whole thing off.
This was soothed by a determination that was composed of one half a drive to help Madaline when she was in need, the way that Madaline often helped her and one half something far more selfish, a sense of self satisfaction that she refused to acknowledge but could feel vibrating in the background of her brain, a feeling that a very primal part of her wanted to hold onto.
So at first she was careful, she eased her way into it and five minutes after internally berating herself because of her third mistake, driving the car began to feel far more natural.
Her anxiety diminished as the patterns of operation fused themselves into her brain, while she gravitated to certain things for a variety of reasons (her upbringing) more than others, overall when it came to matters of skill issues, Amber very rarely made the same mistake twice without intending to.
Then they hit the highway and while it didn’t bring the anxiety back, opening the car up at those higher speeds, how easily it attained them, left her marveling in a kind of wonder.
Madaline’s car was a sports car, but its age and the smoothness with which Madaline drove it belied how powerful it was, that’s what had gotten Amber when they first started, a feathers touch and it lunged, seeming to fight against itself to race up to breakneck at the slightest suggestion from Amber’s careful handling of the controls.
On the highway this effect became far more pronounced, nearly mystical, the engine seemed to whisper up through layers of plastic and metal, that the steady 70 she was locked at was not enough, calling her out as a coward, communicating a frantic desire to go faster.
The instrument panel was entirely a hellish glowing red and in front of her face the speedometer teased her with a tantalizing range of 220 mph.
Amber had seen it from the passenger seat before, but she’d never really taken that in, Madaline had never breached 85 when they were together, it was just another part of the mirage of being out with Madaline, but now the three numbers glared up at her, double digit exponential daring her to see if she or even the car was actually capable of traveling at such a wanton speed.
Yes, the car not only could go faster, it also wanted to, laws about speed limits, maybe even laws about physics were in this beast’s opinion a concern for lesser vehicles.
The real shock of this knowledge was that in spite of all of Simon’s claims that Madaline had no self control, driving the car proved to Amber that on the contrary Madaline clearly had all of it. Madaline had all of the self control in the world, she drove this car around regularly, and resisted that constant urge to race towards a gravity escape velocity.
“You’re doing fine, really good.” Madaline said, her voice stilted, her face kept straight forward, her hands on her knees a little tight, her lips compressed into a thin line, all the humor had drained out of her when they hit the highway.
They weren't even listening to music.
“Thanks,” Amber nodded. “Does this… actually go up to 200?”
Madaline hit her vape, “Engine does,... I’ve gotten it up to 140 for a short bit on ah… on a straight stretch but never pushed it that far,” Madaline responded, keeping her neck locked and going silent once the information was passed to Amber.
She’s really tense, I’m either doing a bad job or it bothers her to have someone else drive… I just need to make sure we get there without any mistakes and she’ll see she can trust me when she needs me. That’s what’s most important. We can talk about how fast the car goes later.
Still, those three numbers leered at her all the way there.
Arriving at the Pascal Street Medical Clinic quickly made it clear that Amber’s driving was not the issue that was causing Madaline’s unusual tension, as when the car went off, Madaline wasn't improving, but getting worse, drawing deep breaths, her fingernails now pushing grooves into the flesh of her pants.
“Are you okay?”
Madaline’s head rocked, “Uh-huh, just a… little…” She took a breath and shook her head, rubbing her palms together.
“Kay… well… try… um… do you want me to come in with you?”
Madaline laughed harshly, “Oh right, no, no, yeah you’re coming with me, I need you.”
Three wonderful words, Amber tried to ignore the soaring feeling they incited, attempting to discern why Madaline was so distressed.
Madaline sniffled, chewed her lip, hit her vape, reached under her seat and pulled out a plastic shopping bag with what looked like a strap or a belt inside, then wrenched the door open, getting herself out fast. “Let’s go.”
They moved across the parking lot, Amber growing increasingly concerned, at first she thought it was the effects of whatever Madaline had done before they left, except Madaline no longer really seemed intoxicated, she wasn’t weaving or unsteady on her feet anymore, certainly she was no longer in a light mood cracking jokes as she had been in the hall.
Nor did she seem her usual sober self though, even when she was in a bad mood, Madaline usually walked with a kind of strut, a high life confidence, but that was gone, instead her shoulders were hunched, her hands were in her pockets, like she was trying to keep herself moving towards a cliff edge, even faltering a couple times. She didn’t stop but instead her foot would veer off slightly as though she was unable to prevent herself from trying to wheel around and move back in the other direction. Approaching the door, she looked to Amber like a more restrained form of how Amber felt when approaching any number of conversation topics to do with her personal history.
After the second occasion, Amber almost put out her hand to take Madaline’s and guide her forward, but stopped herself before she got too far, uncertain how Madaline might take such a gesture.
She wanted to comfort her, desperately, but she had no idea what this was, why she was so upset, and trying to figure it out without asking, without disturbing Madaline kept her mind whirring until they were inside.
The interior was clean and bright, there was a rainbow painted on the wall and a sign reassuring staff and patients that this was a safe place.
Madaline stood before the admission window, her shoulders up, as it rattled aside.
The man behind the glass gave Madaline a look that didn't exactly scream that this was a safe place, more like he wished Madaline was anywhere else, to be fair Madaline looked like she wished the same for herself
“Hey George, got my appointment today.”
Amber wanted to tell George to wipe that unpleasant scowl from his features while Madaline was talking to him.
She didn’t and she wouldn’t have gotten a chance to if she’d started, George said nothing, he just rattled the window shut and Madaline slunk to a seat, and rested back, her hands clenching her knees again, letting out a long whoosh of air between her lips,
Amber sat next to her. “Is everything…” She needed to stop asking that, at this point it was a stupid question. “Can I ask what we’re here for?”
“Just a- I- I’ve got- When I was… like five-” Madaline ground her teeth and clutched her hands together between her legs, then flipped her head in a short, sharp spasm. “Can’t- It’s- Really embarrassing. Sorry… Just... Linda or Henley will explain.” Madaline gave a savage little laugh, “Can’t lean into this.”
Amber suddenly had an image in her head of herself sitting in the waiting room of a vet with a very large, very agitated cat locked inside a carrier that was looking desperately for any escape route she could take.
Amber started to put her hand on Madaline’s back, but pulled away before she could get too far.
They waited maybe three minutes, before a nurse walked one patient out, and looked into her smart pad.
Amber watched as she muttered something that might have been, “Little forewarning would be nice George.” She raised her head and looked at Madaline, “Madaline Marie Mellor, come on down, let’s get this over with.”
Amber looked at Madaline.
That doesn’t seem very professional.
Madaline was still frozen.
“Come on,” the nurse insisted.
Madaline rose quickly and for a moment Amber thought she would run away, instead she crept closer towards the nurse, as though going to her execution. When Amber remained in her seat, Madaline’s hand whipped back, and waved Amber to follow.
Amber did as she was bade, waiting for someone else to stop her.
“Hey, Hennie,” Madaline said, twitching on the spot, before stepping beyond the door.
“I see you brought one of your girls this time, thank god” The nurse mumbled, as Amber passed by her.
This time, the words that’s not very professional slid onto Amber’s tongue, but she caught herself and swallowed them, more by habit than anything else.
Once the three of them were behind the door, Henley stopped Madaline, “Alright, let’s see your eyes.”
Madaline flipped her shades up.
Henley nodded, seeming to like what she saw, which Amber couldn’t really begrudge her. “High as a kite, good.”
“I’m sorry,” Amber began, unable to hold back her curiosity in the face of all this strangeness, Henley’s shortness, not to mention that she was pleased by Madaline showing up to her appointment intoxicated. “I’m a little confused and she said you’d explain things.”
Henley pocketed her tongue in her cheek, looking at Madaline, “She doesn’t know why she’s here? You didn’t tell her?”
“It’s embarrassing,” Madaline said again, looking away, still twitching.
“Walk ahead of us Madaline, room nine, you know where to go.”
Madaline stayed put.
Henley looked at Amber expectantly. Amber waited a moment, unsure before patting Madaline on the back encouraging her to move. Madaline took a step, stopped, took a couple breaths and started walking again.
“Good job,” said Henley, they walked slowly behind Madaline, the idea of someone being escorted to their death was now complete.
“You are?” Henley asked, her voice a little more friendly now..
“I’m Amber,” Amber said, shaking Henley’s hand. “What’s- she wouldn’t tell me-”
“Madaline, I need you to confirm that it’s okay to speak openly about your medical history around her.”
Madaline grumbled.
Henley nodded, “For someone who actually shows up regularly… semi-regularly for their blood work, Madaline has the most severe case of trypanophobia any of us have ever seen.”
Amber’s brain stitched the meaning together with a series of words that had similar roots, The fear of something to do with... hole boring? That’s got to be the same as- right, wait, she said blood, so maybe-
“Seriously?” Amber blurted, as the connections snapped together.
Madaline stopped and turned back unable to look at her, her eyes downcast in shame.
Amber looked up at Madaline, her face slack with nonplussed disbelief, “You’re afraid of needles?”
Madaline rubbed her face with her hand and grumbled something about being embarrassed and a very bad incident in her childhood.
Henley smiled a little pleased, “Severely. Keep walking Madaline.”
“Not afraid… just… causes… freak outs,” said Madaline moving again.
“Stimuli specific panic attacks. As far as I'm aware nothing else hits her like this. You’re the second girl she’s brought in here who’s known what that meant, you a med student, nurse… something?”
“No,” Amber shook her head, “It’s just got a root with tre- Well it’s not important, yes.”
“Hmm, anyway, we usually have to put some extra measures in place and she is supposed to arrive with those extra measures,” she pointed at Amber, “To keep things under control and they do, when she shows up with those details accounted for. Unlike last time.”
“Did you guys get the basket?” Madaline mumbled.
“We did, where did you find that?”
“They... got a site where you can buy them. Based on the reviews they’re intended for people who... are grieving. But, ah, I felt the big I'm Sorry on the front communicated... how sorry I was,” Madaline sniffled.
Amber looked to Henley.
“She sent the office a whole lot of candy in a wooden basket engraved with, I’m Sorry. Our patients, on average, tend to be more prone to psychological issues, most of theirs though don’t make quite the scene hers can when things go very wrong. We ate the candy, but that basket is staying in the office for the next few years.”
They entered an exam room with a couple of normal chairs, an adjustable exam table, and a phlebotomy chair. The door closed.
"You know where to sit Madaline."
After a moment Madaline went to the chair for blood draws and other hypodermic work, sighed and sat, now literally shaking in her boots.
“We weren’t going to say it over the phone, but..." Henley went on, "While we understand the issues you face, Madaline, we’ve all agreed you don’t come here by yourself ever again and if you get out of control during this… let’s put it this way, basically if you let go, if you look at me Madaline, then we stop. I’m not having you blow up again.”
“You've never seen me blow up,” Madaline said quickly, defending herself. “I just made a scene, wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”
“Well, I don’t want to, but we can’t have you do that again. You’re lucky everybody likes you. Alright belts.”
“So I’m told, suppose I am.” Madaline glanced at Amber and after a moment unlatched her belt, and slid it off, handing it and the plastic bag she’d brought over to Amber. “It’s… irrational, I know it is… but that-” Madaline shook her head.
“It’s okay.” Amber nodded. She thought about the day in the bathroom, the memory was a little too vivid, so she took a second to fill the recollection with steam from the shower so she couldn't see anything with her mind's eye that she shouldn’t. But, she remembered clearly how Madaline had asked if she needed stitches, how her teeth had chattered and how much calmer she’d seemed when Amber said she wouldn’t. She remembered Serpentine remarking how odd both she and Amber found it that Madaline had no tattoos.
It made sense now, but what didn’t-
“Wait,” she looked at the spikes through Madaline’s ears. “You have your ears pierced.”
“Right, and I repeatedly make it through several of... these fucking blood draws a year and get any-
“Coat,” Henley interrupted.
Amber stepped in and helped Madaline out of her left sleeve, her bare arm underneath, it jumped a couple of times as it rested on the plastic of the arm rest. “I get… any vaccinations and stuff I need, I can get through… I just need help, so the answer to my ears is the three Fs... friends, being fifteen and a fifth of rotgut that’s how I got my ears pierced,… but even now I go for the screw-ins not the needles.” She gave her head another little shake. “Belt my arm to the chair,” said Madaline.
Amber looked at Henley.
“You need to do it, for a case like hers we legally can’t.”
Amber got to work, the plastic bag contained another belt, she tightened one around the arm sitting upwards, twitching on the arm rest.
"Both on the same side?"
“What we're doing is technically not allowed and it’s made infinitely worse if both her arms are restrained, that’s all we’ll risk. One arm goes down, you take care of the other.”
Amber placed the other belt at the interior of Madaline's elbow. “I … take care of it?”
Madaline gave Amber a look that was nothing less than deeply apologetic.
Meanwhile, Henley gave Madaline a look that was nothing less than totally bemused, when Madaline didn’t notice, Henley moved back to Amber, “You hold her hand, tightly.”
Amber examined the slender willow-like branches of her own arms compared to the well defined muscles on Madaline’s and felt a little bit ridiculous.
“I'd never hurt you,” Madaline snapped fast, not in a mean way, but as though she were trying to rush over herself to reassure Amber.
Madaline held out her free hand, clenching it into a fist, Amber put both her hands around it, clasping Madaline’s hand in both of hers. It was so warm and Amber swore she could feel it pulsing like a heart.
“Okay, show time, just look at her Madaline, she has pretty eyes.”
“I’ve noticed,” Madaline mumbled, her voice pitching a little high.
Amber flushed, her heart rhytheming a little faster in her rib cage. Then she blinked, the words slipped out, both an honest expression and a means to try to move Madaline’s mind away from behind her where Henley was getting the blood draw tools ready. “No, yours are.” Amber looked into rich jade pools; glassy, the pupils wide with anxiety, but so very beautiful.
An image flickered up from the deep of Amber, her teeth slashing into an apple- she pushed the image away. “Mine are just... brown.”
“No,” Madaline said quietly, “Not just.”
Madaline’s fingers started to curl, but halted as she cringed at a rubber tourniquet going around her arm. Madaline stared at Amber, stone faced, but her breathing heavy. The fist in Amber’s hand began pulsing harder, squeezing and releasing.
Henley started hunting for a spot in Madaline’s vein. “It’s always such an issue because her veins like to roll. There.” The sharp smell of rubbing alcohol dispersed through the air, a scent that seemed the olfactory symbol for every injection ever performed.
Madaline began to bite her lip, shoulders jerking.
“Keep still, Madaline, we're almost through.”
“Trying.”
“It’s okay, Madaline, just look at me, okay,” Amber whispered to her.
Henley prodded Madaline’s arm once more with her finger, Madaline jumped in her seat.
“Stay still. Don’t let her look over.”
“Okay,” said Amber, “Just stay… Madaline, just think about music alright, the Beatles, Girl in Red, the Clash.”
Madaline’s brow shined with chilled sweat, behind her skull where Amber could neither see nor hear, garbled lines of musical notation flowed like a busted water mane, crashing over fevered memories of a deadly infection and the rough handling by two doctors trying to keep her alive over several days featuring repeated injections into an area that turned the already frightening experience into agony. Reminding herself that she wasn’t five anymore didn’t do much to stop those feelings melting through the wall she’d built through willpower.
What had changed since then was how Madaline dealt with feeling threatened.
Amber squeezed her hands and reminded her of the Clash again.
Madaline began to hum a chopped version of Should I Stay or Should I Go.
“Everything is going to be okay, we’re almost done, just…” Henley said.
As though she could sense the needle drawing near, Madaline’s arm began to jerk as much as it could within her restraint.
Amber didn’t think through what she said next, it just blew out of her, her words harried and hurried, “Madaline,” she squeezed Madaline’s fist harder, “Listen to me, you need to listen, okay, I know what this is like and I know how to fix it okay, this happens cause of something bad that happened when you were younger right, bad memory, I know how to deal with this kind of thing. Hyperbole, Madaline, and you can’t just push it down cause the memory is too big and it hurts too much, it causes too many problems so what you have to do is shrink it, you have to fade it first into something manageable. Take a deep breath,” she demonstrated.
Henley pressed Madaline’s arm trying to wait for an opportunity when it went totally still.
“Hold it and tell yourself as many times as it takes no matter what your mind says that you’ve made a mountain out of a mole hill, that you’re exaggerating, that it wasn’t actually as bad as that, I’m not saying that it wasn’t actually that bad, but you need to tell yourself that and make yourself believe it so the memory and the feelings are manageable, then you ball it and the feelings up nice and tight and push it down...”
Madaline didn’t respond, Madaline didn’t take deep breaths, they were shallow and quick and it was immediately clear to Amber that Madaline wasn’t going to be able to utilize her self management technique at this moment.
In fact, the only reason Madaline’s mind will be able to go where it goes once this is over, instead of mulling over the realities revealed by this stunning level of honesty from her friend, this veritable life hack how to guide on Amber’s method of suppressing traumatic memories is that Madaline in her panic, doesn’t actually take in 90% of what she says.
Madaline’s fist was now trembling inside Amber’s hands, her jaw working, her eyes darting, her pupils collapsing to pinpricks.
I have to do something else. Think. Something- I have to convince her it’s going to be okay.
This was impossible, she wasn’t debating with Madaline, she was trying to tranquilize her through a situation Amber didn’t have enough information on.
I’m going to screw this up, she needs me, this is what I’m actually here for and I can’t do it right, she’ll never trust me again.
“Madaline, it’s okay, Madaline don’t…” she pleaded.
Madaline’s eyes broke from Amber's.
“Madaline don’t…”
“Don’t Madaline,” Henley said not looking up, “I need you to hold your arms still.”
To Madaline’s credit her free hand remained in Amber’s grasp.
Amber began to seriously consider if Madaline finished that turn and started to seriously spiral what the result might be, but what was clear was that the blood draw that she needed wouldn’t be done and Amber would have failed her the one time, the only time, she’d really asked for help-
The needle was nearly in Madaline’s peripheral.
“Madaline just-”
Madaline’s eyes were off Amber.
Another thought mingled with the others swirling around Amber’s head, cannibalizing her other emotions, a thought about how harsh a reminder this was, it was so frustrating how for the first few weeks staying at Simon’s, Madaline wouldn’t really look at her, wouldn’t really talk to her, but that was still only the gateway to a far more grievous injury, that in the end, though she avoided thinking about it as much as possible this is how it would be.
Eventually, Madaline would be gone and they wouldn’t really see each other at all anymore, Madaline wouldn’t see her, right now they just had this little bit of time, this little slice of their lives where they were Amber and Madaline, and now Madaline wouldn’t- It was so- and-
She couldn’t take it, she really couldn’t take it. In this moment, it all coalesced into a charge of outrage that ran up her spine and it was there:
“Madaline. Marie. Mellor. Look. At. Me.”
Primed by her amygdala, Madaline’s head snapped back and looked at Amber, expecting for a moment to see someone else.
If it wasn’t for all the adrenaline and the drugs, Madaline might have taken in how startled Amber herself looked in that moment, eyes shot wide, brows raised, mouth slightly open, like she’d been blindsided by an apocalyptic revelation.
Or perhaps Madaline didn’t notice because she was lost in the sauce of the sound, those six words had not been from Amber’s standard vocal scale and the sudden deviation had left Madaline a little stunned herself.
Amber’s trademark sound was like much about her; exceedingly light and often cute, but expressively meek and restrained. The voice Madaline had just experienced on the other hand was deeper and richer, less harp and more violin, even cello, with a hypnotic hint of a grinding rasp.
Amber hadn’t shouted, in fact the demand was quite calm, but hearing it out of nowhere, when she was so accustomed to Amber’s usual fare, was like taking a shot of 130 proof liquor after being sober for far too long, it blazed through you, terminating all thought while providing a pleasurable shiver that left you wanting more.
Henley caught her opening and sniped the vein, the needle slid into Madaline’s arm.
Madaline snarled, a flash of teeth and her head began to turn once more on reflex.
Amber jerked out of her own self generated stupification, responding automatically, her hand reaching fast, catching the side of Madaline’s face, the impact gentle, but audible.
Amber traced her thumb over her cheek, drawing Madaline’s gaze back to looking at her.
Amber licked her lips, “No,” she said, once more using the vocal profile of a siren, carelessly expectant, “Just, look at me, that’s right, just look at me for another minute.”
Madaline twitched in her seat, her eyes would start leaving Amber, but then immediately recenter on her.
“Good, you’re doing so good. That’s right, don’t look over there, it doesn't matter, just look at me. You are strong and powerful and brave and you are going to do this for me, because I’m asking you to, you’re just going to keep looking at me.” Gentle fingers across her face, smell of citrus and night lilies, huge dark eyes, words that coiled around Madaline's brain like vapors of intoxicating smoke. “Almost there,” Amber said, watching the last of the red rise into the final vial.
Madaline’s eyes twitched, but she didn’t look away.
“That’s six,” said Henley.
That motivated a response:
“Get it the fuck out of me.” Madaline snapped as Amber continued to hold her.
The needle came out. Amber watched a little line of blood draw itself down Madaline’s arm.
“Let go,” Madaline said.
Amber let Madaline’s free hand spring from her grasp.
Madaline ducked around the hand on her face. Her free hand going to liberate her arm from the belts.
“You did good, both of you,” Henley smiled at Amber. She gave Madaline a bandage. “Was a little tense there for a minute.”
Amber started to offer to apply the bandage, “I can-” she stopped herself, and fixed her voice; pitch, timbre, intensity, loudness, all returned to normal. “I can-”
But Madaline was already handling it herself, yanking the disposable tourniquet off with a snap. She pushed herself out of the chair when she was done.
Madaline paced back and forth several times, before taking one of the open chairs on the other side of the room and sank her eyes into her hands, breathing long and slow, working her heart rate down, tactile relief soaring through her body.
“You… um, you did good,” Amber told her, her hand coming up to touch Madaline, but putting it back down. “Everything... is alright.”
Madaline looked at her, seeming aggrieved with herself for a moment, but then nodded.
In the back of Amber’s head, Serpentine was in stitches.
6.
Henley took the blood, telling them she’d be back soon with the test results.
Having calmed down Madaline joined Amber in one of the chairs across from the exam table, away from the blood draw chair, semi-normal emotional programs resuming function, the adrenaline rolling out, leaving only the sedating effects of the drug.
“Thank you,” Madaline whispered, droopy eyed, embarrassed. “Really. Thanks. You did awesome, right... and I’m really sorry about- I can’t control it.”
After a couple tries, Amber hesitantly patted Madaline's arm, “It’s- it’s okay, I get it… you know, it’s like you say to me, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Madaline laughed. They smiled at each other and for a moment all was well.
“Ever.” Amber added with a nod, knowing it as an absolute fact. God's truth, Jay Gatsby would have said.
Madaline could tell her she'd committed a murder and maybe Amber would ask why, but her first assumption, that might or might not need to be challenged, would be that it was in some way necessary and/or the dead person in question deserved it. Of course that was the case, how could anyone know Madaline and feel any other way. She might not like or agree with everything Madaline did, it might not always be easy for Amber, it might not make sense to her, but shame? No, Madaline should never feel ashamed and if someone thought otherwise they were categorically wrong.
When they were done smiling at each other Madaline tipped her head back and shut her eyes, “I just… need a… minute.”
“Okay. That’s fine.”
This left Amber’s mind to its own devices.
7.
Serpentine had been cackling from the moment Amber had reproduced her voice, the awareness of what she'd done, the sound that had come out of her mouth had hit her like a punch to the back of the head, but the cackling had remained on the periphery of Amber's psychic awareness, keeping her distance while Amber attended to Madaline in the post, but now that Madaline was resting gently, the laughter ceased and Serpentine slipped forward to the front of her thoughts, where she couldn't be ignored.
You remember now, Serpentine cooed jovially.
Yes, Amber sighed. I remember now.
Wasn’t asking. In the end it’s a little anticlimactic, isn’t it, the answer to where this voice comes from, but really how much more ironic can you get than the vocal equivalent of not recognizing your own face in the mirror.
Okay, I’m glad we have that taken care of, please shut up.
This situation, you not remembering is a bit more of a mixed bag than other things, cause you didn’t actually fade the memory, but you were doing an awful lot of fading around it and your brain was, to say the least, scrambled eggs at the time. That bit of brutal honesty aside, for what it’s worth, allow me to provide you your overdue accolades for vocal training through swollen lips, that is not an ideal condition.
Amber remembered, her face had hurt very badly, especially the right side, though in all fairness an awful lot of her had been in pain, she’d fallen on a patch of black ice on Christmas Day, when she’d been walking to the bus station to go back to Mis-U. Each practiced syllable in the weeks that followed had been a reminder of- Clumsy, I can be so clumsy.
You’re not. Serpentine said matter of factly, If you’re lost in your head you sometimes forget to watch where you’re going, but otherwise you have very good spatial awareness, you're not uncoordinated. A tinge of frustration and almost sadness faded into her statement around the halfway point. On the way to the bus station you were understandably freaked out but by then the numbness had set in, you didn’t get lost in your head until you were on the bus, you were being very careful, looking out for ice, cause if you fell that might be it. You didn’t slip and fall. Not on ice, not on the stairs.
Yes, I did. That’s why I was so... Amber began to insist.
Okay, I’m not going to pull that thread right now.
Amber felt that this was good, there was no thread to be pulled.
Ever.
For the sake of argument though, even if there was a loose thread here and there, that was fine, it could be bared, it could be fixed, but if people just started yanking threads all willy-nilly then she might start to come apart at the seams.
In late December/ early January of her final semester at Mis-U, Amber had started vocal training using the site listed on one of her pamphlets and an old book she’d found in the library. It took her three weeks through healing lips, but she’d found her voice, the voice that now belonged to a figment described as Serpentine. At first she had marveled at the sound of it, checking it against recordings from her laptop, reciting bits of Emily Dickinson and Udolpho and Jane Eyre.
But then she’d started reading bits of her own school essays into the recording program… her own words. She’d been so excited, so euphoric by its unarguably feminine sound that she hadn’t really considered any of the other qualities that made up the voice's composition.
The truth of the issue was that though the term had not occurred to her at that time, serpentine wasn't a name, it was an adjective and in a metaphorical sense the term serpentine was absolutely apt.
Hearing her own written words in that voice had been different from hearing someone else's writing and thus served as a much needed reality check: It was all wrong. To apply the description retroactively, she'd sat there knowing that a serpentine voice would never do.
So she’d taken this first voice as a new base and gone back to the drawing board for at minimum another two months, adapting it to the one she now used.
Is that why you’re always such a- snake? Amber asked. Why you’re always so mean to me? Because… what? You got passed up as my voice? It’s not my fault that 90% of what you’re good for… You weren’t what I needed. I needed a voice that would make me likable, that was pleasant, that would let me be who I need to be to- I mean, really just what were you good for other than maybe if I wanted to try auditioning for dubbing a female anime villain?
Getting the role, not trying, Serpentine said snidely, then to Amber’s considerable discomfort, she sighed and switched not into her usual mocking sickly sweet manner, but instead she bent her voice towards Amber’s while grossly satirizing Amber’s own idiolect, Um, why yes, princess, um, that’s exactly what I am, you know, I'm haunting you, I am the ghost of the voice you spurned, oh no, no no no no, I need to be more careful about my choice of diction, if my parlance connotes that I have over a ninth grade reading level too often my boyfriend might not like it, but um, yes Amber, I’m the ghost of the voice you decided wasn’t good enough and who has um, grown a mind of its own. Serpentine dropped the bit. Its purpose had been served, Amber could now hear the subtle, but disturbing similarities in the ocean of difference between them.
Come on, Amber, you have to see how crazy that thought is. No, you spurned the voice and your brain has found another use for it. For that matter if I was a ghost, I’d be a spirit of health not a goblin damned.
I really doubt that.
Hamlet struggled to tell the difference and so do you, but at the end of the day I would never want our little talks to become quarrel-
I can’t even verbalize how ridiculous that is coming from you.
If I can finish, I don’t want our little talks to become quarrelsome, so instead I’ll continue by being quotentous and switch authors since you’re not in the mood for the bard, simply saying, there is of course more of gravy than the grave about me.
What? What does that even mean in this context?
It’s not that the voice you use doesn’t have its uses, oh god does it have uses, my point is this one takes you less effort, it took you much longer to make that one feel natural. Also, this voice got Madaline to look at you when you needed her to. Additionally, you’re so sure people would not like you if you talked like this, but I’m fairly certain plenty of people would find this voice perfectly enjoyable. Why don’t we ask our bestie, see what she thinks.
Mine, not our- No, you're changing the subject. What does the Marley’s ghost line mean? Why can’t you just… be straight with me?
Serpentine began cracking up.
No, stop laughing and answer my last question, what did you mean about being more gravy than the grave?
Serpentine stopped laughing, Ughh.
Amber could practically feel the roll of Serpentine’s eyes.
Think it through, what would you use that line to mean in this conversation? I mean that I’m not something external to you or separate from you and that’s something you need to remember, I’m not imaginary or your friend, I’m a mechanism for pointing out a problem, I’m a hunger pang. A hunger pang only feels like an adversary, like something separate that’s trying to undermine you when you're intent on starving yourself to death. You want our little back and forths to be less adversarial, less distressing and distracting? Start. Eating. More.
I’m already-
Serpentine hard swapped to a hiss, You’re so lit inclined until you want to avoid doing anything but taking the most simple surface level meaning of a statement.
You don’t even- You know what, I’m not doing this with you, I don’t care where you came from or what you're supposed to be. I'm not ruining my day talking to you, cause that’s all you do, if that's not what you're actually good for, you, not the voice, you, then that's what you like so... I got to drive Madaline’s car, I helped her and I want to enjoy driving her home and whatever else we're doing after this cause she's probably not going to work. Amber's soft tone suddenly switched to something harder and more determined. No. I am going to enjoy those things. You are going to shut up.
Just like that another flip, Serpentine’s voice became nonchalant, Oh, okay. Sounds phenomenal, princess, don’t let me stop you. I’ll just put myself on silent. Have a good time with Madaline.
Amber felt Serpentine slither back away, going, gone.
What?
Amber expected her to pop back up with some mean trick, but it didn’t come, she waited longer, it didn’t come. After multiple refused requests, Serpentine had shut up.
Following a few more minutes of absence, of waiting for her to return, Amber, feeling increasingly uneasy, had to start considering the possibility that bailing out on the conversation was the mean trick, designed to mess with Amber’s head, to get Amber to do the work for her.
Well then, the best response was her own trick, the one she’d told Madaline about, ball it up and push it down. It wasn’t big enough to require fading, just a little bit of mental elbow grease and a good old round of don’t think about it.
8.
As the debate was going in Amber’s head, Madaline ended up entertaining her own decidedly different internal deliberation. She’d closed her eyes for about four minutes, her jukebox rolling out a cut up and distorted version of The Beatles, I’m So Tired.
"I'm so tired, I don't know what to do
I'm so tired, my mind is set on you
…three weeks… going insane
I’d give you everything I’ve got
for a little peace of mind."
Madaline’s eyes snapped back open.
Okay, I’m so not falling asleep here. She just had to wait a little more, get around the adrenaline drop, the drugs would be aging out of their prime soon, she still shouldn’t drive for awhile, but if she kept herself awake she should start sharpening up over the next couple of hours.
Unfortunately or fortunately depending on your perspective, without the anxiety and terror rolling off childhood trauma, certain procedural barriers had been weakened. So after another whiff of citrus soap from Amber’s body wash caught and lit up her brain, Madaline moved quickly to thinking about how lovely Amber looked, especially in the new outfit, not to mention the coat Madaline had pointed out for her.
But from there it was not a long walk to thinking openly about the horrific miscarriage of cosmic justice that was befalling the pitiable examination table across from them.
The examination table was a thing of magnificent possibilities, it was comfy and padded and capable of being manipulated into multiple useful positions. To Madaline it seemed such a tragedy it should be suffering from a concerted lack of a stripped naked Amber on it with Madaline deep inside her.
Such karmic considerations unfurled themselves into a hardcore porn trailer in her mind's eye, hardcore, yes, but also high class, something with a budget and actual directorial skills.
She nearly purred out loud as her mind added the newest addition to her concept of Amber, a rarely heard and as of right now instantly lust inducing voice, her trailer featured audio clips of the following statements: We should play doctor, you can give me an exam, please Dr Mellor I’m in heat it's so bad, my boyfriend keeps trying to get me pregnant to fix it, but he keeps failing is there anything you can prescribe me, oh god yes, thank you so much doctor, please more, breed me, knock me up, harder fuck me harder, oh god, cum inside me, get me pregnant, get me pregnant, get me pregnant, I want your babies so bad...
Okay, okay, let’s just say for the sake of argument, if I offered and she was into it and we made good use of it before Henley gets back… eh… I’ll barricade the door and get them another basket… say we make good use of it, how bad of a fuck up would that be?
Well, it would certainly ruin a thus far fuck up free day, there was little doubt of that, but on the other hand it would also bless this thus far fuck free day with a fucking of Amber, but doing so would also likely be the final nail in the coffin for any claim that Madaline actually gave a fuck about anything...
At last, Madaline caught what she was doing, the film reel in her mind burnt up, Not very bestie of me, not very big sister, fucking Christ. Why didn’t I jerk off six times when I woke up. To be fair she hadn’t thought she would be spending the day with someone who made her this frustrated, frustration which was getting worse not better, or even leveling off.
Need to deal with this. Need a plan. Something.
It might be argued by someone with knowledge of the chain of events that was Amber and Madaline’s relationship that this thought had on this day, was the first real domino to fall in the sequence that led them to landing in bed together 17 days later. Other historians might argue that Madaline still had to make a very stupid decision for that to come about.
Okay, so, like no, obviously that would not constitute good behavior at this juncture, so what about like… I mean I’m really tired and we have the rest of the day so like, how about we pick up lunch and go home and watch anime and like she has all these anxiety issues and she doesn’t mind being hugged, so like can I just...like kind of maybe... like cuddle her, like seriously cuddle, like lay on top of her, totally clothed of course and she could feel all protected and safe and not anxious and maybe I can like rub my face in her hair… a little… it looks really soft... like can I do that, like purely platonically... that’s platonicish, right? That would be really nice, I’d like that, what about offering that? Doesn’t have to go any further, I feel like that isn’t too bad of a fuck up or really not even a fuck up at all, right?
Yes, after all Madaline did that kind of thing with her other friends all the time and it didn’t always lead to anything else… key word being, always.
Madaline was also aware, because she would enjoy it, that outside of questions of lust, it would also likely engender a possessive feeling in her, which she really couldn’t afford to begin feeling towards Amber.
In truth, the idea that a sense of possessiveness is not subtly working on her, sitting in her heart like a sleeper agent, waiting for a serious activation, is a bad joke.
Well, she can maybe broach that topic of closer cuddling with Amber today, just see if the idea makes her comfortable or not, that might be just the conversation to have actually, if it makes Amber uncomfortable than this stuff should ramp down at least, which, she figured there was about a 50/50 shot of Amber being into this totally platonic form of bestie bonding, but then Madaline once more considered the memory of Amber on her knees in the bathroom saying the soul crushing words, We're both girls so it wouldn’t be inappropriate.
The thought made her feel sour… except... Amber also had a tendency towards behavior that trended… Madaline thought of it as heterosexual unless otherwise noted or hypothetical heterosexuality. Actually, when Madaline thought about it in concert with a lot of Amber’s behavior it seemed more like constructed het, comp het rather than authentic… or Amber just thought drawn women were pretty and Madaline was playing with the most dangerous ideas she possibly could because her head was fucked up.
Didn’t matter they’d go back and chill and watch anime, Madaline would eat and then Madaline was going to get some fucking sleep, it would be an enjoyable aftern-
Fuck no! The swing came hard and fast at the image, slowly dozing off on the couch with Amber sitting wide awake next to her.
In itself, the image wasn’t the problem, napping on the couch with Amber nearby, was a splendid idea most of the time, she wished she got to take more naps like that. No, the problem was going to that from where they currently were, the day they’d had so far.
The possibility that Amber’s strongest impression of Madaline on this day would be Madaline having her nerves demolished by the reality of a blood draw before then returning home to nap was unbearable, no, no, she was not going home to sleep, and leave that for Amber to remember this day by. Madaline couldn’t handle that. It was not happening. No fucking way. No. In the immortal words of B- Real, Ain’t going out like that.
She’d been planning on doing something with whoever brought her today and she was not abandoning that plan as enticing as a nap sounded at the moment, it was just about jumping back on that course.
She needed to exit out of this benzo slump post haste, get social, get up, she needed to be up. Oh fuck yes, I totally prepped for this, didn't I?
Madaline pretended to pat her pants and jacket for her phone, then slipped her fingers into a little hidden pocket that had been sewn inside the lining and carefully extracted the pill squirreled away there, she palmed it, patted her pants pocket with her phone in it and slipped it out, then discreetly switched the items from one hand to the other.
She spent a few minutes reading an article about Zero Sum by The Smile, then returned a message to Cameron, who’d at last gotten back to Madaline about the request for help. Madaline explained that things were fine, that missing the call wasn’t their fault and that Madaline would hit them up soon.
Halfway through punching up Cam’s message, Madaline passed her hand over her mouth, a convenient gesture for this process, it was one she was aware that she usually did when she wanted to vape, but couldn’t. Hidden in the movement she pressed the palmed pill between her lips and let it dissolve under her tongue.
Using this inventory, Madaline had just activated what she affectionately thought of as baby’s first speedball, a medically discouraged combination of benzos and amphetamines.
It should be an easy flip, the benzos had peaked and while she shouldn't drive for the rest of the day, her brain should be at full capacity for activity within the next fifteen minutes or so. Even three minutes later she could already feel it, the hum of electricity ramping up inside her, her eyes going from droopy with tiredness to wide awake with a sharp impression of the world around her.
She reminded herself that she had to be careful, she was hanging out with Amber while mixing an anti-anxiety drug with a drug that could make you talkative and impulsive.
Fuck I never would have taken the Xanax if I’d really thought things through, like… she didn’t seem to have any problems driving the car over here… I think… but fuck, if we’re going on a date, I’d really prefer to dr-
This thought was delusional, and she knew it, the Xanax was necessary to get her through the ordeal, as embarrassing as she found the reality, but none of that mattered, if Amber had been looking at her face she would have seen the exact moment that Madaline realized where her thoughts had trailed to and what terms she had put them in.
Friend date. Platonic date. Fuck.
Nevermind, she could self flagellate later, right now she needed to figure out where they were going to go.
Her mind rolled with locations she would like to treat Amber to.
They were either not open this early or places she just shouldn’t allow herself to take Amber.
Just another day out, like Saturday, but during the week. Just a thank you. Think. Something fun, but not too fun. Some place I haven’t taken her before, somewhere to hang... Chill... She got it, the idea just popped into her head, oh yeah, her brain was running now.
She felt awake and in a very good mood overall.
Madaline had just enough time to stand and crack her back, before Henley returned.
“You’re all good, Madaline, screen was clean for everything, and your hormone levels are optimum.”
“Alright, cool,” Madaline looked at Amber with a smile. “Let's not do this again for hopefully another six months.”
“Probably four,” said Henley. “It was nice meeting you Amber.”
“Thank you, it was nice meeting you as well,” said Amber.
Henley gave Madaline a piece of paper to hand to reception on her way out and sent them on their way.
9.
They headed back down the hall they came in, Madaline didn't think things through, instead acting on the inspiration of the moment. She drifted slightly behind Amber, a little difficult given Madaline’s chemically imbued urge to walk faster and the length of their respective legs.
Madaline stopped and leaned her arm against the wall, “Hey, hold up a sec, princess. Just need a short chat.” She ran a hand through her hair, letting the mass of it tilt over one side.
Amber turned back around, looking up at Madaline as Madaline bent towards her a little.
Madaline Mellor is a long list of problematic things, a good half of which she would cop to proudly much of the time, but one thing she wasn’t was a creep.
As a result she employed this maneuver as a kind of heavy flirting tactic, a less domineering and invasive version of the ever popular idea of walking a girl to a wall and pinning her there by planting your hands on either side of her.
Madaline would employ the classical version of the wall pin and enjoyed doing so, she had fantasized about doing it to Amber multiple times, but fantasies and fiction are one thing, in real life it was something she would only do with someone she already had an intimate understanding with and knew that they would enjoy it, it was certainly never to be done totally out of the blue.
The difference in the moves was primarily about distance and angles, a little further apart and both of them standing with their sides to the wall instead of the person she was flirting with having her back to it with Madaline in her way.
When combined with a particular posture, leaning herself on a raised arm, it provided Madaline the air of having seductively cornered someone without actually being in control of how long such an interaction might go on. It left Amber with two points of the compass (three if you counted diagonally) by which she might create more space between them, or easily leave the situation if that’s what she wanted to do.
Madaline also kept an eye out for tells of stress vs excitement, which could be tricky because like gender it was a spectrum, but when combined with an axis of pleasure vs displeasure she was fairly good at keeping track on whether or not she needed to back off.
Amber wasn’t breathing deep, she wasn’t scratching the way she did or rubbing her wrists, her face was here and focused, gazing up into Madaline’s face with a small but authentic and relaxed smile, most telling of all though, after half a second of placing them in their positions for this talk, Amber got a step and a half closer than Madaline had intended her being.
It must be said, talk of various differences in the maneuvers aside, this little technique was not how Madaline asked a platonic friend out for a thank you jaunt at a cafe.
“What’s up? Are…” she peered at Madaline. “You’re different now, awake, you were falling asleep in there?”
Madaline shrugged, “Well once they put the needles away it was boring in there, not that I wasn’t enjoying your company. I ate a little something to counteract the effects of the meds I took to get through the ah, needlework, so now I won’t spend my time with you snoring.”
Madaline briefly wondered if she’d get a speech from Amber about her drug use, now that the trial was over.
“Okay, that… makes sense, I think. You know what you’re doing.”
Sweet Satan, that’s actually rather refreshing.
“Hmm, yeah, so ah, thanks again for helping me.”
“Of course, you know, I won’t tell anyone, Madaline.”
Madaline laughed, “Thanks, I appreciate that.” She ran three fingers down the sleeve of Amber’s coat, the fabric turned to flesh as the digits reached Amber’s hand. Madaline left them there, having enough presence of mind to not take her hand the way she felt inclined to.
Amber kept on, “You know, everybody has at least one thing, like I said, you shouldn’t be ashamed of it… Anytime you need help, I will. Like I said, I won’t tell anyone, not that I really have anyone to tell, but if I did, it wouldn’t be their business. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.” Amber's smile widened, her hand moved, pressing just a little more into Madaline’s fingers.
“What I am worried about is that we should get coffee.”
“You... stopped us in the hall, so you could say we should stop for coffee?” Amber laughed.
“No, I stopped us in the hall to say that as a thank you you should let me take you to get coffee, but it's going to require you to drive us there. So it’s more like you should take me to take you to get coffee. Did you like driving my car?”
“Um,” Amber’s face split into a big wonderful grin. “Yeah, it was really fun, it... kept wanting to go faster.”
Madaline laughed, “Yeah, yeah, right, I know what you mean. Well, you did a good job. I can’t drive for another six hours or so, I could in an emergency, but I shouldn’t, even if I seem up now, the first round is still affecting me a little. But let's get coffee, you can have the opportunity to properly try the car out on the way there, little bit of recreational speeding.”
Amber bit her lip, “It sounds like fun, but I really can’t afford a tick-”
She leaned into Amber’s ear and whispered, “The car has a high end radar detector,” she pulled back smirking, “I’ll keep an eye on it and community reporting.”
Amber looked uncertain for a moment, but shook her head, trying not to laugh, “Not to be thankless, but you realize,” she ran her tongue under a molar, unable to be fully serious, “but you realize how bad coffee is as a thank you? You do remember where I work, right?”
“I do and I only get mine from them because you’re there, I thought you had more faith in me.” She reached out and moved some hair out of Amber’s eyes. “I’m not taking you to Zippy Brew, princess.”