“You can always explain! You’re so good at it. Why do you have to look so good? Why do you have to be so sexy and sweet and good at sex? You’re all I can think about and—and—and—” She breaks down in a fit of tears.
I can’t see her face anymore. I think I’m looking at her hair, but it’s hard to tell. Music gets loud and then quiet again. Voices in the background sound male. I wish I had my earbuds. Sunny’s a loud crier, and sound carries around here. Even with the buffer of forest surrounding the cabins, our private conversation is public.
“Sunny Sunshine, take a breath. It’s okay. I wish you would’ve called me or messaged this week, then you’d know you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“We didn’t have very good reception. Well, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have gone with the cheaper phone package. I mostly only had one bar. Sometimes I could see your texts, but I couldn’t reply. Lily’s reception wasn’t any better. I tried to use her phone, and there were all these pictures—” She hiccups.
“Let’s talk it out.”
She lifts her head and looks blearily at me. “Your penis is all over the Internet. It was supposed to be my penis.”
“It is yours, baby. I’m sorry about the picture. I got bit by a spider today. I didn’t know Randy was gonna put that picture up.”
“I don’t care if everyone sees your penis. It’s a nice penis. Except your balls looked really big. Like, not-right kinda big, which I guess is from the spider bite? It was the comments on your wall. I didn’t like them. I can’t—” She hiccups. “Did you know there’s a hooker bunny group dedicated to you?”
I sure do. I stumbled on it one day when I searched my own name. I created a fake account under the name Beaver Bunny and joined so I could see what they posted. There were a lot of selfies, many of them with me sleeping and the girl giving the thumbs up. Sometimes there were pictures of my junk hanging out. None of that is going to help make things better between me and Sunny.
“Baby, you don’t want to look at that stuff. You know how people like to skew things.” As for the comments on the picture of my balls, I can’t control bunny condolences.
Sunny sits up straighter and flips her hair over her shoulder. She twirls a thin braid between her fingers and rubs it over her lips. “I didn’t try to join the group. I know what you’re like. I know, and I still—” She sighs. “Lily and Benji are fighting a lot. I was going to sleep in the tent last night, but there’s bear poop around the site so I didn’t. I don’t think Kale is over me. Are you over me?”
I’m definitely worried about how drunk she is, based on her inability to stick with one train of thought. I’m also concerned about her location. I have a million questions, such as where the fuck is she sleeping if she’s not in the tent close to the bear poop, and what exactly has been going on with Patch McBushman for her to say he’s not over her. I’m back to being pissed, but I recognize that expressing my frustration is useless with her in this state.
I address the last question, because it’s the most important and likely the only one she remembers. “No, of course I’m not over you. Why would you think that?”
Her eyes drop along with her voice. “We had sex. I figured once you had the milk you’d throw away the cow.” She looks up again, tears sliding down her blotchy cheeks. “Why do you think I held out for so long?”
“You thought I wouldn’t want to see you anymore after we had sex?” This is definitely not a conversation I want to have on the phone.
“Well, yeah. You’re so good at the sex, and I’m not. I bet the hooker bunnies are good at it. I bet they give blow jobs. I should’ve given you a blow job. You’re amazing at sex. I already told you that didn’t I? I think I’m kinda drunk.” She blows her hair out of her face. When it doesn’t work she pushes it away with heavy, uncoordinated fingers. “If there was a Stanley Cup for orgasms, you’d definitely get it. I could make one for you in my pottery class. I miss you. I’m so mad at you. You promised no more bunny pictures and poof!” She snaps her fingers sloppily. “One magically appears. She looks like me. Do you think she’s prettier? She was wearing makeup. Should I wear makeup?”
Her honesty makes me feel ill. There’s so much about what she’s said that’s unsettling. This isn’t how I want things to be between us. I didn’t push for sex because I didn’t want her to think that was my only reason for being with her. I thought I’d made that clear. But again, she’s not in any condition to have that talk. “I think you’re gorgeous without makeup. And that wasn’t a bunny. It was one of the camp counselors. Sunny, baby, where are you? Where’s Lily?”