Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 31,103

“Marshall the fifth?” Jessica said into the phone, trying to put on her most sultry voice. “I mean, Stan? It’s me, Elizabeth Wakefield.”

“Elizabeth?” he asked slowly, as if he were trying to place where he remembered her from.

“Yes, Elizabeth,” Jessica said, annoyed, before she remembered that Elizabeth would never take such a tone with anyone, let alone an old man. She cleared her throat and started over, more sweetly this time. “I mean, yes, it’s me, Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—”

“Threesome. Blonde twins. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean,” Jessica fired off rapidly. “Crying after every orgasm.”

“Oh, yes, now I remember,” he answered pleasantly. “Jessica’s sister.”

“Jessica, yes,” Jessica said quickly. “Isn’t she great?”

“Your sister strikes me as a little … devious,” he said. “You, on the other hand – I can tell you’re genuine.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jessica purred. She gritted her teeth.

“I’d like to confide in you, if I may,” he said.

Jessica sighed. What is it about Elizabeth that makes everyone want to tell her their personal business? she wondered. Seriously, who cares about this shit?

“Of course,” she said cautiously. “What is it?”

“I have a feeling your sister may be after my money,” he said.

“Well, you know Jessica,” Jessica said with a nervous laugh. “She’s crazy for money — and dick.”

“I don’t have a problem with the money thing,” he said quickly. “Or the dick thing.”

Jessica laughed, trying to echo Elizabeth’s lilting laugh. “Well, being Elizabeth, I’d be more than happy to butt in.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’d love to give Jessica everything she wants,” Marshall the fifth said. “But only under one condition.”

“And what’s that?” Jessica asked, breathless.

“That you accompany her,” he said.

“Really?” Jessica squeaked. She could barely contain her excitement.

“Really,” he replied. “I could find one gold-digging whore anywhere — the Unicorn Club, for example. But finding two identical gold-digging whores? That’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“I’d do anything for my twin,” Jessica confirmed. “Anything,” she added meaningfully.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “Let’s meet again to … discuss the details. This Friday? I’ll pick both of you up in the limo.”

“I’ll see you then,” Jessica confirmed. “I can’t wait.”

After they said their goodbyes, Jessica hung up the phone and threw it down onto her bed. She jumped up and down, screaming with excitement. Fuck you, Lila Fowler! she thought triumphantly. You’re not the only ho in town with a wealthy old perv for a boyfriend!

Late for her shift, Jessica threw her best thong into her purse and ran down the stairs. On her way out to the car she daydreamed about the fabulous new life she and Elizabeth would share with Marshall the fifth: the exotic vacations, the fabulous clothes, the painfully awkward sex. It’s a small price to pay, Jessica reasoned as she unlocked the Jeep.

Driving past the projects that surrounded Sweet Valley Heights, Jessica mentally bid goodbye to the rundown area. God, I can’t believe we slummed it over here for so long, she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. Sure, the condos are nice, but ever since they let crackies like Enid actually move in, it’s all been downhill.

In the daytime, the Unicorn Club didn’t look too impressive, but Jessica knew that at night its soft purple neon glow drew perverts from miles around. She pulled into the parking lot behind the squat concrete-block building, taking extra care to back into a space that backed up to some scraggly looking bushes that would conceal her license plate.

Hopping out of the car and throwing her bag over her shoulder, she hurried to the back door of the building. Inside, she breathed in the familiar smell of sweat, shame and desperation. In the dressing room, Courtney was passed out on the table.

“What the fuck?” Jessica muttered, pounding her fist on the table as she passed. Courtney woke suddenly, jumping about a foot in the air. Jessica quickly peeled off her clothes and dug through her purse for her thong, pulling it on with a satisfying snap.

Sweet Valley

“The Patman Date Rape Crisis Center?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Elizabeth nodded and bit her lip. She couldn’t tell whether his reaction meant that he liked her idea or not.

He drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know, Elizabeth,” he said slowly. “It kind of seems like a bad idea.”

“It’s really not,” Elizabeth said, flipping to the next page of her pad. She took a pointing stick out of her cleavage and used it to indicate to a colorful pie chart. “According to statistics from the Sweet Valley Police Department, 90 percent of women in Sweet Valley have been date raped. That’s a huge segment of the population.”

“It does seem unusually large,” Bruce said, appearing deep in thought.

“If you can convince that 90 percent that you care about them — really care about them — you can convince them that you’re not the Sweet Valley date rapist!” Elizabeth finished passionately.

“But I don’t care about them,” Bruce said. “Elizabeth, you’re my BFF. You, of all people, should know by now that I really only look out for myself.”

“That’s not true,” Elizabeth said fiercely.

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04 2011

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