Malaika waits to see if he’ll elaborate. She can feel a knot slowly forming in her stomach. She places her sketch board on the pillow next to her and swivels around so that her feet are now touching the floor. “What does he want?”
“Ideally, everything—”
“That’s not going to happen.” She stands up and makes her way to the window. Without thinking, she closes the drapes. Talking to Andy makes her feel exposed.
“Think of it as acting,” he says, his voice unnervingly calm. “Like, if you were playing a part in a movie, you’d have to kiss and stuff, right?”
“But I don’t want to be an actress.”
“Right, but what if you did? I mean, if you really need the money…”
“I think I’d prefer to stick to the simple jobs,” Malaika says, pacing the room. Her evening with Simon had been easy and uncomplicated—not to mention lucrative. Malaika had been looking forward to more of those.
“Are you sure? He’ll pay one thousand dollars.” There’s a beat. “Maybe more.”
Malaika chews on her lip. She’s tempted. Of course she is.
“No, sorry.” She shakes her head even though Andy can’t see it.
“What about two grand?”
Two thousand dollars? Malaika swallows. “Not even for three.”
“All right then,” Andy says. He is clearly disappointed. “If you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” Malaika insists. “Thanks anyway.”
They hang up. Malaika expects to feel relieved, but instead she feels dispirited. What if she’s made a mistake saying no? She doesn’t want to have sex for money. She doesn’t even want to kiss for money. But she does want to be a designer—she wants it more than anything in the entire world. Her ambition is her heartbeat. It’s the stuff that keeps her going, that makes her feel alive.
Shouldn’t she be willing to do whatever it takes?
Thirty-Three
Zofia
Tuesday, October 15th
Dr. Woodward has asked Zofia to write about a happy childhood memory in preparation for today’s session. Zofia has chosen one of her most vivid recollections because specificity is key to good writing and also because this is an opportunity to demonstrate her superior memory. Zofia has spent a great deal of time working on this assignment, writing two drafts in plain legal paper before neatly transcribing the memory onto her orange notebook. Now, she observes Dr. Woodward as he reads her entry. For once, she is not inspecting his tie (orange with an equestrian motif) or trying to catch a glimpse of his socks (unclear). Instead, Zofia is studying Dr. Woodward’s facial reactions for signs of amusement or delight. But when Dr. Woodward lowers the orange notebook, his face is contorted in an expression of concern. Dr. Woodward sounds disappointed when he says: I thought we had agreed on a happy childhood memory. Dr. Woodward emphasizes the word happy as if Zofia might have trouble grasping its meaning, which is utterly nonsensical since Zofia’s speechlessness has not affected her extensive vocabulary. Zofia chooses not to reply. Dr. Woodward then asks three questions: Why did you pick this memory? How has this memory shaped you? And, If you could talk to your seven-year-old self, what would you say? Usually, Zofia flat out refuses to answer manifold queries, but today she makes an exception. She takes out her blue notebook and writes: 1. Because I remember it well. 2. I don’t think it has. 3. You are very lucky. Zofia hands him the notebook, hoping that he’ll appreciate her choice of a numbered list since everyone knows that numbers add clarity. Dr. Woodward’s frown deepens when he reads Zofia’s answers. Dr. Woodward then asks Zofia why the incident she has written about makes her feel lucky. Zofia can only surmise that before today’s session Dr. Woodward had hit his bald head against a brick wall and lost basic cognitive functions because the theme of luck is clearly depicted in the story. Indeed, the very title of her entry is Lucky Day. Zofia is mildly tempted to retrieve her notebook and march out of Dr. Woodward’s office, but instead she folds her arms and assumes an expression of profound discontentment. Dr. Woodward presses on, saying that, to his mind, having two boys throw pebbles at her sounds like a frightening episode, one that Zofia should’ve reported to a teacher or to her aunt (Zofia notes that Dr. Woodward does not bring up her mother, which is a relief since it indicates that Dr. Woodward has retained a modicum of his cerebral functions). Zofia does not offer a reply. Dr. Woodward is perfectly capable of rereading the passage where Zofia has distinctly relayed that she did report the incident. Zofia had told her cousin, who beat those two boys to a pulp without breaking a sweat. The boys had never messed with her again. Zofia had been a small, asthmatic child (the very definition of easy prey), but in the schoolyard she had commanded the respect of a towering giant because, after the incident with the two boys, her cousin had made it clear to the entire school that Zofia was not to be messed with. Zofia had felt very lucky, indeed.
Interview with Elizabeth Pennington
Member of the Alma Social Club—Third Generation. Enrolled in 2007
Do you remember the TMZ piece that came out?? The one on Gina?
It had some stupid tagline I’m blanking on right now, some play on words with “boots.” It was all about how Gina hadn’t taken Bobby back, even though the blow job email was a fake because she must’ve known something we didn’t, something which would indicate Bobby really did have an affair.
A few of us believed that, which, fine, I guess it makes sense. Others didn’t, they thought Gina was taking some time to process the memo for Calan’s sake, which seemed irrelevant to me. Everyone had an opinion, right? But it was all about whether or not Bobby
