Chapter 5: Fighting His Past

    “Hey, s’your foot actually on the gas, Rebecca? Or... are we just idling forward?” Emily grumbled, rhythmically tapping the armrest of her friend’s station wagon in irritation. “‘Cause we’re movin’ a little slow.”

    “Really?” Rebecca asked sleepily, squinting through her unruly tangle of auburn curls. “No one’s going faster than us, though.”

    “Maybe ’cause they’re all stuck behind us? Like, right behind us. That huge line of cars breathing down our exhaust pipe. See all the angry little faces in your rear-view mirror?” Emily pointed, exasperated.

    “Then, that means we’re allll going a safe speed,” Rebecca concluded, smiling contentedly and nodding to herself. She was a hazel-eyed, freckled, unkempt, and drowsy-looking girl with a rather plain figure hidden beneath a baggy blue sweater with kittens knitted onto it. She seemed like an awkward but affable girl in her twenties, one who’d spent half of every year of her life raised by her grandparents, a serene and old-fashioned elderly couple.

    Few knew, but the other half of every year was spent travelling with her parents, prominent medieval and renaissance-fair enthusiasts active in every reenactment and historical combat organization in the country. There Rebecca was known instead as Mara, old Russian for ‘Nightmare,’ and since the age of seven she’d participated in field combat with sword and shield and spear. Of course, no one but her closest friends and the geeks in their local LARP group suspected her to be anything but some harmless, frumpy, crazy cat lady in the making.

    “Seriously? Safe? If we don’t drop off the Package by four-thirty, I’m gonna be late for work. That pedal needs to hit the floor and I need to see all this,” Emily gestured towards the parking lots slowly crawling along outside her window, “turn into a hellish blur. Please, Rebecca? A little faster?”

    “Oh-kay, here we go!” Rebecca said, twisting her grip on the steering wheel and accelerating. The sedate hum of her car’s engine rose to a sleepy grumble.

    “Aaaaaaaah,” Emily croaked in mock terror as she watched the speedometer needle climb from fifteen all the way up to hold at nineteen miles per hour. She slumped down in defeat.

    “Um, could you try not referring to me as the ‘Package?’ It’s kind of demeaning?” a voice chided from the seat behind them in the station wagon.

    Repressing a grimace, Emily slowly craned her neck towards the back seats, and the third occupant of Rebecca’s car, the ‘Package.’

    Chloe. Brian’s now ex-girlfriend, currently couch-hopping between the apartments of all of her friends. She was tall and well-proportioned, with a dancer’s figure and graceful, doe-eyed features. Yoga pants clung tightly to her slender, coltish legs, and a stylish blouse was fastened snugly around her with an equally fashionable leather belt. She wore her long brown hair in a sexy, loose tousle down one shoulder, and, as usual, wore her typical disapproving frown.

   Everything a girl wants to have, in one sexy... package, Emily thought, feeling an envious pang. And she’s such a rotten bitch. It really isn’t fair.

    “You’d better step on it, Rebecca. the Package is getting hostile, I repeat—the Package is getting hostile,” Emily said bitterly. Rebecca let out an unlady-like snort, but it had always been easy to make her laugh.

    “This is a really important text,” Chloe snapped, shooting a cold glare up at Emily. “Could you both just... not?”

    “If it’s that important, should you really be texting it instead of, oh I dunno, calling them?” Somehow lately every little thing Chloe did was getting under Emily’s skin, and she hadn’t been able to keep herself from antagonizing the girl.

    “Uh-huh... cute,” Chloe said dismissively, not looking up from her phone.

    “Annnyways,” Emily said, “Rebecca, I was thinking. Do you want to head down to the convention early, like, Saturday night maybe?”

    “But, we both work Saturday? And you work Saturday night?”

    “Yeah, but if I switch my night shift tomorrow and take Karen’s morning shift, we could head out early, like as soon as you’re off work. Which is what, like, six-ish? I’m sure Brian’d let us room with him that night.”

    “So, we’d have an earlier start Sunday morning? I’m cool with that, yeah. I can just ask Grandpa to feed Prince for me that night, too. I guess just... call me soon as you find out if you and Karen can switch shifts,” Rebecca affirmed, giving a thumbs-up.

    “You two are still going to that con?” Chloe mumbled, not sharing their enthusiasm.

    “Well yeah... why wouldn’t we?” Emily challenged. “Single-day passes are only twenty-five bucks, and we both have all of Sunday off for sure.”

    “Uh, ’cause you both made me fork over my pass to Brian,” Chloe muttered, crossing her arms.

    “We made you make a decision,” Emily corrected. “You can’t honestly say you’d be okay with breaking up with him, and then having him pay for your pass and your hotel stay.”

    “Why not? Why should I have to pay for either of those things?” Chloe retorted, twisting her lovely brown hair in her fingertips distractedly without taking her eyes off her phone.

    “...Uh-huh,” Emily grumbled, trying to stay composed. Her tongue was getting slick with nasty words that were hard to bite back. “Well, all of that’s between you two, it doesn’t mean me and Rebecca aren’t going to hang out with him,” Emily said decisively. “He’s still our friend, okay?”

    “Yeah... well, whatever.” Chloe replied, disgusted, and tossed her phone across the seat. “Let me guess, you’re dressing up as the titty ninja again?”

    Rebecca and Emily exchanged glances, and Emily comically pantomimed looking at her own meager chest in surprise.

    “Guess not, I’ll just have to be the itty bitty ninja instead,” Emily said dryly, prompting a giggle from Rebecca.

    “Funny. But, kinda sad that you feel the need to dress so provocatively. You don’t need to slut yourself up to please those nerds, you don’t need that kind of... dehumanizing attention,” Chloe decided. “You don’t need to please anyone, you’re not a slab of meat for them to gawk at and drool over.”

    “Dehumanizing...?” Emily made a face.

    “You do realize Akane Kurokawa was obviously written and drawn by a man? And, because of that, she’s not a real character, with real choices. She’s a caricature, a commodity, a checklist collection of sexual traits that exist to be desired, obtained, and then... ew, used.”

    “Whoa, champ. Easy on the feminist buzzwords... you’re not on your blog. Besides, what happened to feeling empowered by wearing whatever I please? Who doesn’t want to be a sexy badass? Akane was my hero all throughout high school, and I wanna cosplay her,” Emily said resolutely, batting her eyelashes innocently.

    “And—I’ve been single for a while now. So what if a little of that kind of attention is just what I’m lookin’ for?” I always wanted Brian to see me that way, Emily thought, her mood darkening. I didn’t ask my body to stop fucking developing at fourteen, you know.

    “Hah, that kind of attention,” Rebecca chuckled.

    “Emily, seriously now. Don’t you think the Akane Kurokawa outfit is a little too... well, revealing to wear, in public?” Chloe chided.

    “What’s to reveal?” Emily snorted, grabbing her tiny breasts in her palms. “You think someone’ll notice mah bumps?”

    “Haha, mah bumps,” Rebecca echoed.

    “So, that’s it, you think it’s okay that women get objectified like that? This is an important issue, and you’re just gonna brush it off with your little jokes, like you do with everything else that matters.”

    “Well, you know how it goes. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Akane Kurokawa, master kunoichi, well, she’s definitely got it.”

    “But, we don’t got it,” Rebecca said in mock disappointment, pouting. Although taller and more athletic, she had a pair of tiny breasts as well.

    “I know. But, we still wanna flaunt it,” Emily said, her own pout breaking into a grin. “I think Chloe’s just bothered by Akane being a strong, independent woman, who also happens to feel confident wearing outfits that are... well, a little revealing.”

    Rebecca snorted. “Yeah, just a little revealing.”

    “Doesn’t she get raped by tentacles, like, four times? And rescued, by the male characters?” Chloe asked.

    “That was... only one or two times,” Emily rolled her eyes. “And, she didn’t actually get raped. Just tied up, groped, and maaaybe had a tentacle shoved in her mouth. They always save her just before the real penetration starts. Frikkin’ teases. Those episodes were hot.”

    “That’s... absolutely disgusting, Emily. Even if you’re joking, that’s really, just... absolutely the worst. The fact that they could even air that in an anime is degrading to women everywhere.” The look of pure revulsion on Chloe’s face cheered Emily up a bit.

   Oh, of course. Sex and fetishes are just for deviant male scumbags. Chloe, you’d blow out a vein if you saw some of the folders on my hard drive, Emily thought, hiding a smirk.

   “Rebecca, did I tell you about all the progress I made improving last year’s Kurokawa cosplay?” Emily asked. “So, last year I got the basic yukata from that online retailer with measurements to my size—but the body fishnet that came with it was positively enormous, their customer service guy said they only had it in a ‘one-size-fits-most’ sorta thing.”

    “Hmm,” Rebecca nodded. “I do remember the body stocking thing you wore underneath last year was kinda... weird and baggy.”

    “Exactly! And, that netting was some cheap, wiry plastic shit. Big square weaves. Felt awful on my bare skin. This year, I got a fishnet body stocking from this lingerie website, and it’s perfect. It’s this tight little nylon diamond-weave pattern that fits snug everywhere, and it’s comfy as hell. Looks just like it should, too, like in the anime. Well, except that I don’t have her double D’s, o’course.”

    “...Lingerie website?” Rebecca wondered aloud, theatrically giggling into her hand. “Oooh.”

    “And, you’re really wearing it for your costume?” Chloe deadpanned, glancing over. “Some fetish-wear fishnet thing from a lingerie site?”

    “Yeppers!” Emily answered with a wolfish grin.

    “Disgusting.” Chloe declared, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t trust anything from a website that sells lingerie in children’s sizes.”

    That stung. Inwardly seething, Emily instead turned back to Rebecca. “Anyways, last year I covered up my nips with band-aids. This year I’ll have actual flesh-tone pasties. They’ll help keep me going from indecent to... well, explicit. Hopefully. I mean, it’s in case some kinda accident happens, since the yukata I wear over it’s so loose.”

    “Pasties? That’s like, professional,” Rebecca said appreciatively. “Like, professional cosplayers would wear those. Well, not professional. Uh... famous cosplayers? The good ones. Like models.”

    Chloe rolled her eyes. “Are you going to dress up this year, Rebecca?”

    “Mmm-hmm!” Rebecca hummed, nodding sagaciously. “Just my normal summer soft-kit, though, and my fancy new sword and board.”

    “Your—what?” Chloe said, already lost.

    “Well, my soft kit is fighting garb,” Rebecca said, a slow smile spreading across her features. “My summer fighting garb. Viking stuff; boots, winnigas, kirtle, a linen undertunic. None o’ my armor, we’d call that hard kit, and none of my lovely wool stuff, this time of year.”

    “And, ‘sword and board,’meaning ‘sword and shield,’” Emily added. “Rebecca has the most gorgeous viking round shield I’ve ever seen at a LARP.”

    “You’re doing a... LARP roleplay thing, then?” Chloe asked.

    “No, no, I can’t do much in-character stuff this time. Pretty much all that’s on Sunday is the tournament. Still, there should be some worthwhile fights.”

    “Wait, you’re fighting at the convention?” Chloe asked, aghast. “I thought that wasn’t allowed?”

    “Well, it was some kind of big legal or liability issue that didn’t mesh well with the convention’s safety standards. So, instead we created a new group specifically for AnimeCon this year, called the Order of the Sovereign Swords. There’s gonna be a lot of problems and drama, for sure. Fantasy geeks who don’t know a halberd from a hauberk, stick-jocks complaining about using padded weapons, you know, yadda yadda yadda,” Rebecca murmured, a dreamy look in her eyes.

    “It’s... well, it’s hard to picture you fighting with people, even if it’s just pretend.” Chloe stated. Emily and Rebecca turned to each other and burst out laughing.

    “What’s so funny?” Chloe demanded, giving them both a pout.

    “Chloe... calling what Rebecca does with padded weapons ‘pretend’ doesn’t quite cover it,” Emily said, grinning widely. “I mean, you’re talking about Mara, the Nightmare. Daughter of Thorferra the Tall?”

    The last time Emily had seen Rebecca get serious was at a medieval LARPing campout. She’d stormed a formation of five enemy soldiers, and in a flurry of surgically accurate sword-strikes, ‘killed’ all of them. Two of them didn’t take her strikes, however, ‘brushing off’ the hits. It was a way of bending the game’s rules to claim that hits weren’t ‘solid’ enough to count.

    The girl’s cheerful, lethargic look had given way in that moment and the cold, terrifying face of Mara was revealed. So, she had struck them again. And again, and again, and again, too fast and fierce for them to block or counterattack, a terrifying clockwork frenzy of slashes. Even though the weapons were thoroughly padded with safety foam, Rebecca had the skill and leverage with a sword to use the kind of devastating force of a pro boxer wearing boxing gloves. Those two players were too bruised to crawl out of their sleeping bags the next day.

    “You’re joking.” Chloe said, grabbing her phone and checking it again. “Really. I can’t picture Rebecca even swatting at her cat.”

    “That’s ‘cause I wouldn’t, he’s my little fluffeh angel!” Rebecca gushed.

    “...By the way, Chloe, I ran into Brian when I stopped by the apartment to check for your stuff,” Emily said snidely.

    “And, I would care... why?” Chloe asked flatly. “What did he say?”

    Emily answered only with a teasing grin. He asked if you were okay, because he still cared about you. But you don’t deserve to know that.

    “Did he say anything about me, or not?”

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    “Nah, I gave him the con badge and he was pretty blasé about the whole breakup. Ugh, and he’s having fun at the convention right now... that jerk.” Emily said glibly. “While I’m stuck here, about to be late for my hellish job.” As if to punctuate her statement, one of the cars trapped behind them honked its horn.

    “Blasé?” Rebecca asked, arching an eyebrow.

    “Yeah, I coulda just said ‘he was all like whateva,’ like you guys expected, but sometimes I gotta remind you simpletons that I’m also hellishly smart,” Emily declared, winking and flashing her infectiously cute smile into the mirror of the passenger-side sun visor.

    “Who cares what he’s doing? And, what’s with you saying hellish all the time?” Chloe griped, tapping at her phone absentmindedly.

    “Shove off, I relish my ’hellish’,” Emily grumbled.

    “Uh, Is ’heckish’ a word, then?” Rebecca wondered out loud.

    “Of course, Rebecca,” Emily cried in exasperation. “It describes the special rated-PG hell for children and little old ladies, where the fires are only lukewarm, nobody swears, and the blood is censored. People who drive too slowly miss out on heaven and wind up there, in heck.”

    “Oh, dear.” Rebecca slipped Emily a sly smile and the passing scenery outside their windows seemed to perceptibly slow again.

    Emily struggled to resist the urge to strangle her friend with her seat belt.

    “Hmph. You gave Brian my apartment key back too, right?” Chloe grunted.

    Eyes widening, Emily jammed her hand into the tiny front pocket of her jeans, feeling the cold metal of the key. Shit.

    “...Of course,” Emily lied, fuming at her mistake. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rebecca’s sly smile reappear. Shiiiiit. “Oh! And, I gave him Sammie’s harem charm too.”

    “Oh no, the harem chaaaa—” Rebecca’s sentence was overtaken by a yawn.

    “Yep, you said it. He’s probably neck-deep in fine chicas by now,” Emily sighed with a smile.

    “That’s not what I said,” Rebecca protested weakly.

    “Harem charm...” Chloe muttered in vexation. “The mentality behind the whole harem thing is disgusting. It’s the same male power fantasy they cram into everything to pander to these horny losers. Gives them these expectations of women that are horribly skewed, and reduces the women to... things, empty stereotypes. I can’t stand it. That’s why the birthrates in Japan are so bad. Instead of going out and meeting women, the men stay in their tiny little rooms and whack off to sexist cartoon pornography.”

    “Uh... hey, I’m going to have a harem of kitties someday,” Rebecca chimed in, trying to diffuse what she knew was going to become yet another argument between her friends. No one was listening. “A calico, for sure, a siamese and—”

    “What’s so wrong with harems?” Emily said. “It’s pretty standard sorta wish-fulfillment kind of romantic drama. Weren’t you all into those awful teen drama Dusk books back in the day? And didn’t you force us all to watch your Vampire Crusader anime?”

    “It’s not the same, at all,” Chloe said icily. “Harems perpetuate this rotten culture that teaches men that it’s okay to collect women. It shows women that their lives center around impressing and servicing a man, or being discarded on that man’s whim. It implies that one man is worth many women, and nothing could be further from the truth.”

    Chloe clapped her hands together in amusement, chuckling. “In fact, you think Brian is talking to girls right now? Hah! A hundred bucks says Brian holes himself up in his hotel room the whole weekend, whacking off to cartoon porn. Alone.”

    A blue mist rolled through Emily’s mind for a moment, clouding her thoughts with salacious ideas. Brian alone in that hotel room, sensually stroking himself... I’d love to catch him like that. Tried to, a couple times back in high school. I want to see him, out of breath and eyes glazed with lust, Emily imagined. I want to catch him in that unguarded moment, want to see his cock, rigid and huge. Would he stop, embarrassed... or maybe he’ll just keep pumping away, working that dick with his eyes locked on me...

    Back in high school, she’d sometimes gotten off on simply imagining that Brian masturbated to the thought of her. What better way was there to wipe away the insecurities she felt in her short stature and petite, underdeveloped body? Yeah, count on me to have the most perverse sense of validation, she thought with a sigh.

    “Haha, would Brian actually, you know... whack off?” Rebecca asked doubtfully. Both Chloe and Emily gave her a blank look. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how sheltered in some ways their friend was.

    “You know what, Chloe?” Emily insisted, shifting her tiny butt against the cushion of her seat. “I’ll take that bet of yours. You don’t know Brian like you think you do. Never did. And, it’s called ‘hentai,’ not ‘cartoon porn.’”

    “Same thing, doesn’t matter,” Chloe said indifferently. “Besides, do you even have a hundred bucks, Emily?”

    “Weellll, I will when you lose the bet and pay up,” Emily said with confidence. “He has the harem charm, and besides, he’s single now. You’ve forgotten what he was like when he was single.”

    “Well, I’ll never forget now, since I’m sure he’ll be single for the rest of his sad life,” Chloe said, laughing airily. “You don’t know how awkward and weird he was when he was dating. Let me put it this way—he’s the kind of guy who thinks it’s romantic to quote nerdy movies.”

    “Welllll, that’d depend on the quote. And the movie,” Emily argued. “The right reference at the right time would be really sweet. Besides, he’s at an anime convention. If that’ll work anywhere, it’ll work there.”

    “Something from a kid’s movie, though? Like Goblin Labyrinth?” Chloe scoffed. “How do you even—”

    “Which line?” Rebecca interrupted immediately.

    “What?” Chloe asked, surprised.

    “I’m asking, which line did he quote?” Rebecca enunciated carefully, her smile fading and her soporific expression draining away.

    “Uh,” Chloe struggled to remember. “It was stupid. Something like, ‘I’m not asking for much’... or no wait, ‘I’m asking for so little—’”

    “—I ask for so little... just fear me. Love me. Do as I ask, and I shall be your slave,” Rebecca recited breathlessly.

    “Yeah, that.” Chloe affirmed, irritated. “So, what? It never made any sense.”

    Rebecca slumped down in the driver’s seat, giving out a long sigh. “If a guy ever said that to me, I’d melt. I never knew he said that to you, why didn’t you tell us?! Haven’t you seen Goblin Labyrinth?! The meaning behind that moment, what was going on? What he was offering her?!”

    “And how hot the Faerie King was?” Emily added excitedly. “I mean, he was played by David B—”

    “Yeah yeah, Brian made me watch it, once.” Chloe said with disdain. “It didn’t exactl—”

    “I’ve seen it hundreds of times,” Rebecca said proudly. “It’s my absolute favorite fantasy movie, of all time. In fact, we’re watching it tonight after work.”

    “Sweet!” Emily said, smiling brilliantly. “Seems like Goblin Labyrinth lines didn’t work on his lady, but we still gotta give him points for trying it, at least, right?”

    “Yeah, ‘his lady,’ great,” Chloe said, scowling and turning to glance at the column of cars backed up behind them. “Because, obviously, I belonged to him. I was only there to satisfy his urges, fulfill his sense of male superiority, and stroke his ego. Guess I forgot for a moment how brainwashed you two still are. No wonder nobody’s on my side anymore.”

    Little blue droplets danced across Emily’s vision for a moment, and she blinked quickly. The thought of Brian using Chloe for satisfaction was, well—kinda hot. Taking this haughty bitch down a peg or two, and wiping the damn smug superior look off her face... with his dick, of course.

   Humiliating her... degrading her. Pulling an indignant Chloe over his knee and spanking her across that pert bottom of hers in steady, deliberate strokes that she’s helpless to struggle against. Teasing and stroking her to the edge of desire, leaving her panting with lust like a simple bitch in heat. Until she’s absolutely begging for it... Condensation was forming on the inside of Emily’s mind, and when the blue beads of moisture began to run down the panes of her thoughts Emily jerked, shifting her thighs against one another. D-damn. I know what tune my vibrator’s gonna be humming to tonight. Have I developed a new fetish?

    “Satisfying urges, superiority, and ego... that sounds just like the relationship I have with Prince,” Rebecca interjected, trying to lighten the mood.

    “Except, Prince Charming isn’t a boyfriend, or a man. He’s your cat. There’s a little bit of a difference,” Chloe reminded her friend.

    “...Is there, though?” Rebecca wondered aloud, tapping her lip. “Is there?”

    “She’s got a point,” Emily said. “Prince Charming is the textbook example of an oppressive patriarchal male.“

    “Prince Charming,” Rebecca sighed, “My little butterstuff fluffylumpkin.”

    “Well, whatever. Did I tell either of you about the new guy I’ve been talking to?” Chloe asked casually.

    “What? ...Who?” Emily said, taken aback.

    “Ryan, at Seabrooks, that little indie coffee place. He’s the one with the pink hair?”

    “Hipster mister!” Rebecca exclaimed, remembering him. “But, isn’t he..?”

    “Turns out he’s bisexual, not just gay,” Chloe said defensively. “It’d be nice to experience someone with that kind of open mindset. Someone who isn’t... well, trapped up in prehistoric ideas of what genders should be. I really need to get away from all of that casual misogyny.”

     “...And, who’s a misogynist, then?” Emily asked through her teeth.

    “You know who I mean,” Chloe scoffed. “A certain cis-gendered assho—well, guy we all know,” glancing guiltily at Rebecca, who didn’t like her friends using bad language in her car.

    “Brian actually cared about you, you know? He really tried to... make you happy. And, he tried so hard to put up with your... well, you. ” Emily managed, trying not to raise her voice.

    “Yeah, okay.” Chloe snorted. “He tried to put up with us actually becoming progressive. He tolerated my little game of fighting for equality, in a culture of oppression. But caring? He didn’t care, couldn’t care. Because, he’s a man, so everything’s just fine as it is in his little world at the top, living in privilege.”

    “Alright, now you’re bullshitting me.” Emily laughed, not caring what swears slipped out.

    “Excuse me?” Chloe asked.

    “Privilege? Did you forget every fuckin’ thing you know about Brian? How rough he had it with his parents? His dad trying to beat the shit out of him all the time? How he had to stash his games and anime at my place, so that his stepmom wouldn’t throw them out while he was at school?”

    “Wow, so terrible, his mommy took away his video games...”

    “Games he paid for, with money from his job! Chloe, your parents paid your tuition and bought your car for you. Brian left home when he turned eighteen with nothing but the clothes on his back. He got a job, an apartment, supported himself, supported you—”

    “So, you’re making Brian out to be some kind of hero for being abused, and leaving home, but when I leave Brian for the same reasons and circumstances, everyone jumps down my throat with criticism? What, because I’m a woman? How’s that fair? I did pity him for the way they treated him, at first. I think he learned a lot of his abusive behaviors from them. But, I can’t be expect-”

    “Abusive behaviors? So, what? Brian abused you?”

    “...Yeah, he did. He abused me.” An awkward silence filled the car for a few long moments.

    “What, he hit you? What did he do?” Emily demanded in disbelief.

    “...No. He didn’t physically hurt me. He didn’t have the guts,” Chloe declared proudly. “Deep down men are all cowards. They always talk big and then lose their head when a woman challenges the status quo.”

    “So, he’s abusive, but he never hurt you?” Emily asked incredulously. “But, he’s a coward, for not abusing you? How can—”

    “Real abuse isn’t bruises or a black eye anymore,” Chloe interrupted. “It’s not being able to speak your mind because he’s too eager to shut me down. To pick apart every little thing I say and... twist the meanings around. Having him always going against me, opposing—no, oppressing me. When you don’t feel safe in an apartment with your boyfriend, then, hello? You are being abused. Psychological abuse leaves trauma that lasts—”

    “Wow, so terrible, he tried to politely reason with his entitled feminist girlfriend,” Emily mocked. “Always seemed to me like you were the one oppressing him.”

    “He can’t be oppressed, retard,” Chloe interrupted. “He’s a man, and we live in his culture, a patriarchal culture. He’s the one in power, and the one that’s oppressing. And, if he ever really is abused, then he should appreciate the goddamn experience, because then he’ll understand what women everywhere go through every single day.”

    “Are you fucking out of your—”

    “AHEM.” Rebecca exclaimed rigidly, her soporific expression draining away. “Both of you, just chill down, okay? Seriously, you guys? We’re all friends here. Friends.”

   Chill out, Emily had almost corrected her, but instead, she blanched sheepishly and held her tongue. Besides, she’s right. Arguing with Chloe never gets anyone anywhere. How long did my poor Brian put up with that?

    As the oncoming traffic finally dwindled, the long line of cars behind them now accelerated and began to pass them on the two-lane stretch of blacktop. A little ashamed, Emily sunk down further in her seat as withering stares were directed at them by the passing cars. Rebecca stuck her tongue out at them, and her station wagon continued ponderously puttering along at the same tepid pace.

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