Read Avoiding Amy Jackson Online

Authors: N. A. Alcorn

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romantic Comedy

Avoiding Amy Jackson (15 page)

BOOK: Avoiding Amy Jackson
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“What? Is something wrong?” Ellen’s voice is engraved with concern.

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be saying
holy shit
when you’re scanning a pregnant woman’s belly, Allison.” I turn my attention towards the screen and I’m immediately transfixed. “
Holy shit.”

“What? Oh my god! What’s wrong?” Ellen squirms to the right to see what has Allison and me so surprised. “
Holy shit,”
Ellen whispers when she finally gets a look.

“Well, I’d say you’re at least eleven weeks along, maybe closer to twelve weeks.” Allison’s face beams as she takes in Ellen’s reaction. “I’ll print off a few pictures for you.”

“Eleven or twelve weeks! You’re
that
lady! You’re that lady who doesn’t realize she’s pregnant until she’s literally pushing a baby out of her vagina in her kitchen!” I shout far too loudly for the small room.

“Calm down, fucko,” my best friend urges as she continues to look at the tiny heartbeat on the screen.

The tiny heartbeat fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings echoes in the room. I continue to stare at the sweet little profile of her baby. It kind of resembles an alien, but you can still make out the little nose and belly. “I can’t believe that’s your baby. That’s your baby, Ellie Belly!” I grab her hand and squeeze it tight.

“Oh my god! That’s my baby.” She looks over at me, her eyes filled with tears again.

“No more crying. Seriously, I can’t do another sob fest with you.” I laugh out as tears roll down my face. “Look at your beautiful baby, Ellie. I’m so happy for you.”

Ellen’s hand covers her mouth as happy tears tumble down her face. “I can’t believe that’s my baby.” She looks over at me again and her eyes go wide. “How in the hell am I going to tell Trent?”

I giggle at her shocked expression. “Trent is going to be thrilled, I can promise you that.” She smiles at my words. I know for a fact that Trent Hamilton is going to be the happiest man on the planet.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“No one wants a furry pussy.” - Amy

 

“What do you mean you have the flu?!”

“I’m sorry, Amy. I can’t come in today. We need to reschedule your appointment.” A fit of coughing loudly echoes into the phone and the sound of mucous rattling around in Marie’s chest fills my ear.


What?
Oh my god. You have to come in today! I can’t go another day without getting my palomita waxed! I look like a ‘70s porn star! I’ve had the flu shot. Just come in and do my Brazilian and then go home.
Please
.
Please
. I’m begging you, Marie.” I’m in full-on panic mode, desperately asking her to make an exception for me.

“Amy…” Another fit of coughing pierces my eardrum through the receiver and I instantly pull the phone away from my face and grimace. “I’m way too sick to come in today. Just call the shop and reschedule for next week.”


Next week!
Are you kidding me? Marie, I can’t wait another week! I’m going to look like I’m smuggling Lionel Richie’s jerry curl between my legs if I wait another week!”

“I’m sorry, Amy. Call the shop and reschedule. Maybe Jenny can fit you in this week.”

“No way. No how. I
cannot
let Jenny do it. You’re the best, Marie. My little honey pot needs the best!”

“Goodbye, Amy.” Marie rudely hangs up the phone, leaving me shell-shocked and more than frustrated.

I jump out of my Honda Civic and proceed to stomp up my apartment stairs, slamming my door with a loud bang. Son of a goat fucker! I can’t wait another week! Another week and I’m going to have to seriously consider taking my vagina to the barber shop for a buzz cut. Seriously, it’s that bad. I’m pretty sure my pussy has sideburns. I’ll never get laid again looking like this. I would need a search team equipped with flashlights and weed-whackers to find my pink taco.

Maybe I can just shave it?

I take a few deep breaths and hop around on the balls of my feet like I’m ready to jump in the ring.
Okay, you can do this. Just hop in the shower and shave these pubes off.
This could work. This
will
work. I storm into the bathroom and proceed to strip down naked and turn the shower on. I stand in front of the full-length mirror, coming face to face with the thick black bush between my legs.

Oh. My. God.

This is terrible.

A god damn travesty.

I scream in frustration and start throwing shit out of the bathroom closet, desperately looking for a razor.
God dammit!
Where is a razor when you need one! Maybe Lizzy has one in her room? That bitch is notorious for being organized and never running out of anything. I stride my naked ass into Lizzy’s bedroom and start rummaging through her stuff in a frantic search for a razor.

“Aha! Found it!” I hold the razor up in my hand and jump up and down like I just found the cure for cancer. I catch another glimpse of my furry pussy in Lizzy’s mirror and tears start to stream down my face. I know, it might seem a little crazy to cry over this situation, but I take serious pride in my snatch being well-groomed. I treat her as if she were a real person. And right now, my best girl resembles Aretha Franklin’s afro. Someone give her a microphone. I think she might start belting out
R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

“It’s okay. We’re going to get you fixed up in no time.” I take a minute to comfort my vagina before proceeding with my one-woman mission to get my bushy pubes under control. I stroll out of Lizzy’s bedroom and head back into the hallway.

“Amy?” I hear a familiar deep voice behind me. I know that voice. Why is that voice in my apartment? I turn around and next thing I know, I’m face to face with James. He stands at the end of my hallway with a huge smile on his face.

I’m startled and now desperately trying to cover my bush o’ pubes from James’s view. “How did you get in here?”


Well
…” He runs his hand through his hair in hesitant movements. His demeanor is cautious as he tries to explain his unexpected visit. “You left your apartment door unlocked and I heard someone in here screaming and crying. I thought maybe something was wrong.” His eyes slowly move down my body, taking in my naked state.

“Stop looking at me!” I screech out as I frenziedly try to cover myself up with both hands.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” James turns his head, looking away from me.

“Get your ass into the living room,” I demand, which causes him to take another glimpse in my direction. “Oh my god, James! Stop fucking looking at me!” I shout before turning around and running into my bathroom. I quickly grab a towel, wrap it tightly around myself, and head back out into the living room, where James has now made himself comfortable on my couch. I give him an irritated stare with my hands securely on my hips.

He ignores my crossness. “Why did I hear screaming and crying before?” James’s eyes are a brilliant shade of green today. They stare back at me with curiosity.

I sigh heavily and the movement of my chest causes his gaze to start a slow descent down my body. I sternly motion for him to bring his gaze back to mine. “Eyes up here, idiot.”

James chuckles and I roll my eyes in response. “Seriously, Amy. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I huff out in exasperation. “I just had a minor emergency. Can you give me a minute? I need to take a quick shower.”

“Sure thing, doll. I’ll keep myself busy.” He waves the remote control in the air.

I start to head for the hallway and turn back towards him. “What made you stop by anyways?”

“I had the day off, and I knew you had the day off, so I figured we could hang out together.”

I raise my eyebrow at him, my face incredulous.

“You know,
as friends
. That’s what friends do. They hang out sometimes—enjoy each other’s company in a purely platonic perspective.” He raises his eyebrow right back at me, giving me that all too familiar smug grin of his.

“You are kind of an asshole right now for just showing up here without any heads up, but sure, we can hang out. I’ll be right back.”

His face lights up with a warm smile and he nods his head before he points the remote at the television and starts scrolling through the channels.

I make quick work of my shower and do my best to shave my little muff so she’s as bald as Mr. Clean’s head. I managed to get in and out without any casualties despite the fact that I almost fell three times while trying to lift my leg. Shaving a vagina is no easy feat. There are a lot of nooks and crannies to work around. Now I remember why I started getting waxed in the first place. My Italian genes have kindly given me the thickest bush o’ pubes on this side of the Mississippi. Consequently, after I succeeded in getting things back in order, Lizzy’s brand new razor is already on its last leg.

I make a mental note to pick up more razors the next time I’m at the store so Ms. Organization doesn’t have a minor freak-out when she realizes she’s missing some inventory. After living with Lizzy for several months, I would lay money on the fact that she keeps track of everything. Luckily for her, she has several brand-new razors on hand, so she won’t be faced with any type of emergency shaving situation in the near future.

I toss on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, throw my wet locks up into a messy bun, and head for the living room. James is engrossed in some National Geographic show about sharks. I sit next to him, curling my legs up under me and leaning against the arm of the couch. My presence causes James to look over and grin.

He promptly turns off the television and turns his body towards mine. “Feel better?”

I laugh despite myself. “Yeah. A lot better.”

“Sorry about barging in on you—although it definitely benefitted me.” His eyebrows waggle up and down.

I give him a pointed stare. “Friends aren’t supposed to see each other naked, nor are they supposed to comment about enjoying seeing each other naked, even if it was an accident.”

James chuckles and gently pats my thigh. “I’m still trying to get the hang of this being friends thing. I think I deserve some sort of learning curve.”

“You’re really asking for a lot.”

“So since we’re friends and friends share everything with each other, I think you should tell me why you were in here screaming and crying.” He tilts his head to the side, patiently waiting for an explanation.

I run my hand over my face and sigh in frustration. “You really are pushing this whole friendship thing, aren’t you?”

He nods his head yes.

“Well, I had an appointment today—
a waxing appointment
—and the lady canceled on me.” I grimace when I remember the way my best girl looked before I shaved her bald.

“Waxing appointment?” He looks at me inquisitively.

“Yes, waxing appointment. You know, like a Brazilian wax. I don’t generally sport the ‘70s-porn bush look. I keep my shit nice and tidy, and well, when Marie canceled on me today because she decided to get the flu, I kind of lost it. What can I say? I take pride in my vagina’s appearance.”

“So that’s why I thought I saw Duck Dynasty in your apartment?” James tries to keep a straight face and hold back the urge to burst out in laughter.

I grab a pillow and smack him upside the head. “God, you’re a dick and pretty much the worst friend a girl could ask for.”

He throws his head back, laughing at my expense.

Fucking Duck Dynasty
. Okay, even I’ll admit that one was a little funny. I hit him upside the head with the pillow again, just for good measure, but I can’t hold back the smile that’s plastered on my face. His deep laugh sends shivers through my spine, which I do my best to ignore. James scoots next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“So, friend, what should we do today?” He peeks down at me.

“You’re the one who just showed up here unexpected, and after that Duck Dynasty comment, I think you need to come up with something really good.” I grin up at him, delight filling my brown eyes.

“Let’s go grab some lunch and see a movie.”

“That sounds like a date, James,” I chide with an annoyed look.

“No, this is definitely not a date. We’re just friends, hanging out, platonically enjoying each other’s company.” He shoots me a wink and nudges me flirtatiously.

“I have a feeling you’re going to need a huge learning curve on this whole friendship thing.”

“I have a feeling you’re probably right.” He lets go of my shoulder and stands up from the couch. “Come on! Get your sweet ass up and let’s go!” He grabs my hands and pulls me up to a standing position.

“Ground rules. No groping, calling me sweet ass, or trying to shove your tongue in my mouth.” I clear my throat and hold up one finger. “And one more thing. No eye-fucking me like a creeper.”

His throaty laugh fills the apartment. “But we still get to play grab-ass like the other night, right?”

“James!”

He barks out a chuckle as he holds both hands up in the air. “I’m kidding, doll. Get your shit and let’s go. I’m starving and can’t wait to
not date you
.”

I head for the kitchen to grab my purse and ignore the fact that his last comment gave me an uncomfortable twinge of disappointment. James and I are going to be friends. Yes, I can do this. I have no reason to feel disappointment because this is how things should be between us and I
will
stop thinking about him in dirty, wicked ways.

I’m not going to think dirty things when I’m around James.

I’m going to repeat this mantra every time I’m with him until I convince myself that dirty and James do not even belong in the same sentence.

Hmmm, James and dirty things…

James thrusting into me…

James with his face between my thighs…

James’s perfect hands on my body…
Stop!

Ah, fuck.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

“Best friends will defend your dildo’s honor

BOOK: Avoiding Amy Jackson
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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