Page 2 of Wells

"God, he really is the worst." I shake my head, as if this is the first time it occurred to me. I've known. I just didn't want to admit it.

"You know he packed while I was at that first interview in Slidell, right? He left his key on the counter next to a sticky note that said ‘sorry,’ in lowercase, with no period."

"Shitbird," Locke says. That's the nickname he gave him a year ago after we moved in together. Locke has always hated him, probably because Cas made a gay joke the first time they met. Cas is such an ignorant jerk.

I had to admit that it was pretty funny. Cas's last name is Shebbard, and it really does sound like "shitbird."

"Motherfucker," I retort. "Shitbird is too tame for him."

"Shitbird motherfucker," he confirms, lifting his glass, and we drink to it. It helps more than anything has over the last month since he took off without another word.

There is a thing I have not said out loud until right now, and I only say it because it's Locke and it's late and the wine is doing its job.

"I'm not heartbroken by him leaving. I'm humiliated. I'm so tired of being the reliable one, the one who pays, the one who holds it all together. When does the fun part of adulting come?"

My throat does that little bob-thing where it goes up and down but never completes the swallow. I will not cry over Cas Shitbird. As I’ve already admitted, I knew he wasn’t the one. It isn’t about him.

"You've got to take what you want, Darlin'. No one gives you anything in this life, least of all Shitbird."

"Yeah, I know I'm bad at that. I'm furious at him, but mostly I'm furious at me, because I watched it coming and I let it happen anyway."

Locke reaches over and squeezes my ankle, which is the most affection I will tolerate before I start making jokes to make it stop.

"How bad is it?" he asks. "Money. Do you want to move in with me? We can put a Murphy bed in my office."

"I love you, Locke, but I'd rather live in the Wal-Mart bathroom than move into your brothel of an apartment. No offense."

"None taken. But seriously, do you have enough savings to tide you over until we figure out your job sitch?"

"It's bad." I make myself say it out loud, and saying it is worse than knowing it. "I have about two months’ reserve."

"We're finding you something before two months, I can assure you. And we're going to find you that fun you keep putting off."

"Hell, yeah. I'm taking life by the horns starting now." As I say it, I know that's never going to be my reality. I'm too responsible for that. I've always had to rely on myself, so I don't have the luxury of winging it.

He swirls his wine and says nothing for a moment. I know that face. That is the face he makes right before something either brilliant or arrestable comes out of him.

"Don't be weird about what I'm about to say."

"That is the single most alarming sentence you've ever said to me. Now I'm scared."

"I know a girl from the studio. She makes more in a weekend on OnlyFans than you made in a month coding clavicles, and she does it from her couch in her pajamas. Granted, they’re silky, and she has to fake orgasms, but she’s still on her couch.”

I look at him. "You can't be serious. You want me to do porn?"

"Silly girl, it isn't porn!"

I laugh because I don't know much about OnlyFans, but I'm pretty sure what little I know amounts to video-chat sexting with strangers who pay to play.

"Okay, then if not porn, video-prostitution."

"Nope, neither. Are you done? Because I'm being serious. I want you to hear me out. I've been thinking about this for you."

“You’ve been thinking about this for me? Okay, I’m definitely weirded out.”

"I want you to consider a revenue stream," he says, prim as a banker. "It isn't porn or prostitution. It's selling access to you in whatever format you're comfortable with. You set the boundaries, you set the price, no one lays a finger on you, and half of them only want someone to talk to them like they matter, which, between us, you already do for free."

The horrible thing is I'm a tiny bit curious about how one actually makes money doing this, and wondering if it could work for me. That is what two months and a lowercase apology will do to a person. I run the math without deciding to, because I can't stop running every math lately.