She can hear the caller shift the phone, cover the receiver with his hand. He is talking but she cannot make out the words. She cannot hear anyone else talking. The phone shifts again.
“He’s uh, having way too good a time to come to the phone.”
She is sure it is Duffy now. It has to be. That exaggerated surfer drawl. Is Todd even there?
“I got to ask you. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
A pause. Does he want her to answer?
“No one wants to take your fat ass to Formal. Nooo-body. You’re straight wretched. My boy Todd, he’s too good for you. He doesn’t want to go with you. Do you hear that?”
She says nothing. There are no words.
“You’re still there. I know you are. Now Kelsey Taper, she likes Todd. Kelsey Tapeworm is going to blow him. You’re not going to blow him, are you?
“No, you’re not. So why don’t you have a good cry, eat some Ben & Jerry’s or whatever, and eat a fat dick you fucking.Whale.”
Click.
The dial tone pounds in her ear until the robot woman comes on.
“If you would like to make a call…”
Beddy hangs up.
She slumps down into her chair and wants to cry, but cannot. It feels foreign, like she has to first remember how to do it before she can. She is on a different axis than the room’s.
“This,” she says.
The music wafts back to her. Connie’s mixtape she made special for Beddy. “Tight Like Prom Night Mix.”
“I clean my mouth ‘cause froth comes out,” Ms. Phair commiserates. “Send it up on fire. Death before dawn. Send it up on fire. Death before dawn.”