Chapter 22: Long Distance Drive“How are you doing?” K asked me, and after a short pause she added, “David.”

  I released a deep breath--as deep as the corset would allow--scarcely aware of havi it in. Free of the o act like dy I felt unscious stress lifting from my shoulders. Yeah, riding in a Honda Civic through these unknown backwaters, the ce of ag me out of character retty slim. The thing is, I he practice, though I hated admitting it nearly as much as I did maintaining the charade.

  I shrugged. Truth is, other than the boredom this robably the most rexed I’d been in weeks. ‘Rexed’ is a retive term. I wasn’t in fear for my life at the moment, but oher hand I wasly fortable, sitting there in that damn corset, legs crossed at the thigh like some pansy and dressed in a skirt that barely covered my ass. I was feeling a bit sweaty and itchy under all that foundation gear and the whole thing was starting to get stifling. My battered and bruised chest occasionally throbbed in indignant pain. Sitting in heels isn’t as bad as walking in them, but after a few hours I really wao stretch my arches out.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said. “I guess.” I gnced aside at her. K kept her eyes owisting road ahead. The ge in appearance was amazing, from the sexy, severe professional of a few days ago to dowdy middle-aged aunt. When she dropped character, however, something in the way she moved, in those unfling ste eyes, dispelled any doubts as to who she was.

  “You did well this m,” she said. “You managed your makeup well.”

  She had me do my o, though under her tutege of course. It took a few tries but I did a pretty good job, I thought. The mascara and eyeliuff kind of freaked me out--I didn’t still like poking those bloody things so close to my eye. K hahe trickier bits—t, she expihe expert touches that yered colours and somehow thinned my nose and softehe jaw line.

  “Thanks,” I said. I flipped down the sun visor and checked myself over. The face that peered back was frighteningly feminine. Where had those fident eyes of earlier gone? “I guess I should touch it up, huh?” It still felt like a heavy, caked on mask to me, all that makeup and shit smeared ay fabsp; Believe me, painting my face with that crap wasn’t something I was going to miss ohis was all over. I reached down for my purse, but a brief touch of her hand on my kopped me.

  “Your makeup is okay,” K said. She sighed. I was surprised at how tired she sounded. “David . . . listen. Not everything I say is meant as an order, okay? I am not always reminding you of what dy o do.”

  “If you say so,” I answered, but started to touch up my makeup anyway. It’s not like I was going to try anything ambitious in a moving car. That stupid magazine--and holy shit, could there be anything more b and patronizing than a teen girls’ magazine?--pointed out something about shiny bits on a girl’s face, and I tried fixing it up. God. I was actually ‘p my nose’. Bloody hell.

  K flicked the car over to automatic drive. It was an old piece of shit, this car, but not that old and we were still coasting along main roads, so the guidance systems took over almost immediately. She looked away from the road to watch me. I ignored her, rummaging through the purse for some lipstibsp; I’d quickly discovered I preferred gloss to this other crap. Lipstick felt heavier and unfortable on my lips, and somehow seemed more ‘adult’, the richer opaque ore sexual. I figured the earlier I got used to it, the better.

  “Are you angry with me, David?” K asked. There was an uain too her voice that seemed quite out of character.

  I looked away from my image reflected bae on dy’s cheap mobile phone. The slender bck tube of lipstick hovered at the edge of my lips. Was she slipping bato ‘Auntie’-mode? Was she trying to py me somehow? “Nah, why would I be mad?” I said auro painting my lips. I’m pretty sure the article said something about blotting and I looked in my purse for a tissue.

  “Fine,” K said. She handed me a tissue from her pocket. “Here.” Her tone indicated a return to the nearly unbroken silence of the st few hours.

  I pursed my lips and then touched them to the tissue and checked the results. My mouth looked sexier, my lips fuller and smooth. The article reended using lip-liner but I couldn’t remember what kind of look it was for. Odds are I’d just end up jamming the damn thing up my nostril pothole we hit, anyway. Still, the differehat darker ade was surprising, drawing my mouth out from the rest of my fabsp; Tilting the phone I checked around my eyes, the careful brownish-pink blending of eyeshadow ay lids, the mascara and eyelihat somehow made my eyes look wider and brighter. Then I looked into those greener depths. It be unfortable, staring directly into yourself and seeing what stares babsp; I lost myself for a moment, only to feel anger well up inside. I dropped my phone in the purse and almost threurse at the floor between my feet.

  “Yeah, K, I am fug angry, okay?” I spun in my seat to face her, and the way the seatbelt drew painfully against my chest only spurred me on. “What the hell did you expect?”

  She kept her eyes on the road and answered in a cool voibsp; “And what did you expect, David, pointing a gun at me?”

  “Those asshole federal agents were fshing a picture of you, K! That’s not the kind of shit you want to see, not when you’re dressed up as a goddamn girl and the person responsible is the ohey’re looking for. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

  “You said you trusted me.”

  “I do!” I shouted at her.

  “Are you attracted to me, David?”

  “What the hell does it matter? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “After you slipped on pahat first time,” she ticked off. “And again st night. That makes twiow that you have tried to ‘get it on’ with me.”

  “Me?” I couldn’t believe this bitbsp; “You were the one finger-fug me st night, in case you’ve fotten.”

  “I was merely testing the efficacy of the prosthetic.”

  “The efficy of. . . .” I nearly choked. “Bullshit. You wanna know the truth? Yeah, I like you. God knows why, sidering what you’ve put me through these st few days. But for whatever reason, you’re okay by me. And if you’re asking me if I think you’re sexy . . . hell yeah! I haven’t had any a in two months, and you’ve got a damn fine body when you’re not being a total bitch about it.”

  “That may be the hing a man has said to me in a very long time,” K answered with a thin, wry smile.

  “But you know what I think, K? I think you like dressing me up like this. You get a kick out of maki and dress all girly-like and shit. You ask if I like you? You ask if I’m attracted to you? Hell, K, I think you’re the one who likes me . . . no, fuck that. It’s dy you’ve got the hots for, and I think you love the idea there’s a mah the makeup and skirt.”

  I gred at her, arms crossed beh those massive parasites lurking in my sweater, waiting for an answer. Her grip tightened and rexed on the wheel. She was angry; I hadn’t known her for long but I was learning to read her. After carefully weighing her words she answered in a curt, clipped tone, eyes watg the road despite the fact the car had the wheel.

  “Do I like dy?” she said. “Yes, David, I do. In many ways she is far more pleasant pany than you.”

  I gave a shh. “You like yirls silly and weak, is that it K?” Damn, but I’d just known she was a dyke. Had her pegged from the first time we met.

  “Do you, David?”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes. Not for anything serious.”

  “And you are an expert on serious retionships?”

  “Yeah, well I’m sure that profile you’ve got on me has an answer. You? Much of an expert?”

  “That,” K answered, “is none of your business.”

  “Huh. And here I thought we were enjoying an intimate road-trip, getting-to- know-each-other moment.”

  She looked aside at me and her eyes glittered enigmatically. “I am not sure you are the kind of man any woman enjoys getting to know.”

  That actually hurt. The truth often does. Dyke bitbsp; “Fuck you, K.”

  “You are arrogant, Mr Saunders. You are a crude and aggressive misogynist.”

  I blinked. “Yeah, and?”

  “That was not a pliment, David.”

  “What, you think I don’t know what I am? K, I’m not a nice guy. I’ve done plenty of shit I’m not proud of.” I had to be careful. The temptation was there to say things that shouldn’t be said. Long-distance-drive bonding moment or not, mortal peril and all, some things in my past were staying buried. What was it about K that made me want to fide in her?

  “And you know what?” I tinued. “Yeah, I treat girls like shit. Know what the best thing is? I don’t feel bad about it. Not at all. If some dumb bitch throws herself at me, who am I not to catch her? I’m not her goddamn therapist. She’s got issues that make her wet her pa the thought of bad boys, then hey! I’ll be bad. She looking for some gold-digging a? Hell, I’ll let her mine my but, yeah, I’m damn well gonna expee drilling of my own after. I’m not the guy y home to the parents, K. I’m just not that guy. Never have been. Never will be.”

  I watched K for any kind of rea, but her thoughts remained veiled. From my end, having said my bit I couldn’t help but look over myself and wonder how insistent that rant sounded ing from the glistening lips of a guy wearing a pleated skirt. Yeah, I’m a really fug badass, I am, every panty-wearing inch.

  “But know what?” I tinued. “If you think I treat all women like that, then your profile really hasn’t a fug clue and you’re a worse judge of character than I thought. Because if I was with a woman like you, K? No way I’d treat her like shit.”

  K locked eyes with me. “You are right,” she answered, and turned back to the road. “You would not.”

  And I thought that was that. We sank bato silenbsp; It began to stretch out. Somehow it didn’t seem as unfortable as before. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and caught me by surprise.

  “I do like you, David,” she said, and her smile was so genuine and shy and so quick I nearly missed it. “And yes. I think I do have the hots for dy. As you say,” she added, and her eyes sparkled with mischief, “I do like the fact there’s a mah the makeup and skirt.”

  ***

  Author's Notes: If you're impatient to read on, you find ter chapters at FM S. You also find everything up to Book 3, Chapter 6 avaible on Patreon: patreon./fakeminsk, as well as fanart and a few side projects.