by Anna Geary-Meyer
I was in the front seat of Ed’s car on a Friday night, and Ed had his pants down with his penis there, staring up at me like one of those meerkats on Animal Planet. We had been dating for two years, which is a long time in high school, so we were trying to spice things up with dirty talk.
He’d say stuff like, “Yeah, my cock is so big, yeah, yeah.”
And I’d say stuff like, “Urrgarghuhuhuhg.”
It made the muscles in my jaw hurt, but I was a straight A honor roll student, so I didn’t really know how to not be good at stuff, even geometry, which in my opinion is even more boring than blowjobs. Except this time, as we were parked in the Rite Aid parking lot, I had things on my mind besides perfection, and anyways, my throat was feeling kind of sore.
I think Ed knew I was getting bored with slobbering all over him, because he said something like, “C’mon, babe, say something dirty.”
“Alugugugrls,” I said.
“What?” he asked, shoving his penis deeper into my throat.
“Aluuugugugrls,” I said.
“What?” he asked again.
I opened my mouth and spit out his penis, wiping off my chin.
“I like girls,” I said.
He sat there with his mouth open, pants still down.
I opened the car door, which made the lights come on, and stood up.
“You can keep the sweatshirt,” I said, motioning to the crumpled maroon shape on the floor.
I started to walk away towards the Rite Aid, a glowworm oasis of overpriced skincare products that were pretty easy to shoplift. I didn’t really have a plan, but I thought I’d buy some gum or a soda and then call my mom for a ride home. But then I heard the car door slam behind me and saw Ed standing there, still with half a boner making a tent shape in his sweatpants.
He said my name, his face tense like a bulldog’s, but a sad one.
“Just get back in the car and we can talk,” he told me.
“Sorry Ed,” I said, “But I have better things to do tonight.”
Just as the words came out of my mouth, I noticed that a patch of air right by the dumpster had started to shimmer with a sort of rainbow iridescence, like a giant soap bubble. It gave off the scent of coconut and vanilla, unless that was from Rite Aid’s candle section.
But Ed was walking over to me now, and his face was really red, so I ran. The shimmery rainbow patch seemed as good a destination as any, so I hurdled a few old plastic Coke bottles and long-jumped into it, headfirst.
My feet left the ground and I couldn’t see anything but light, but I was warm, floating through some kind of spacey, womb-like tunnel, the scent of coconuts getting stronger and stronger. I coasted for a little while longer and then finally, the light got softer and I floated down like a leaf onto a patch of grass.
I landed with a soft thud and looked up to see Eleanor Roosevelt hovering over me. I wouldn’t have recognized her if we hadn’t had a lesson on the Roosevelts in history class today, because she was wearing a leather jacket and glitter eyeshadow and had her hair all slicked back like Elvis’.
“Eleanor Roosevelt?” I asked. “Where am I?”
She smiled and extended a hand to help me off the ground.
“Welcome to Gay Heaven,” she said.
A pair of unicorns trotted up to us and knelt down so we could get on. I had always wanted to take riding lessons, so I knew I’d be a natural.
Eleanor and I rode for a while, crossing cornfields and creeks until we reached a pair of big, sparkly gates. We dismounted and she slapped me on the butt, but in a nice way.
“Go get em, kid,” she said. “I’ll be waiting on the other side.”
“What other side?” I started to ask, but she dissolved into a bunch of bubbles and floated off into the wind before I could finish. And then suddenly a tall man, bigger than any man I had ever seen before, stood in front of me. He wore all black and had tattoos on his face like tiger stripes.
“Velcome,” he said in a thick German accent. “Before you can enter zhe gates, vee have to administer a short examination.”
I nodded, silent. I was ready.
“Zhe first kvestion,” he said, his eyes staring into my soul, which at that moment, felt like a prematurely flipped pancake.
“Vhat is zhis shape?” he asked, holding out a piece of paper covered in ink blots that looked like a wild boar in tall grass or a mermaid’s face.
I gave him the mermaid answer, so he would know I was thinking about girls. He gave no reaction, but one of the unicorns behind me snorted in support.
“Und now, zhe second kvestion. Who is zhe best Backstreet Boy?”
Oh gosh, I thought. I really didn’t know what to say. I squinted, trying to picture the poster in my friend Hannah’s room, thinking if I could remember just one of their names, but I had mostly been staring at her boobs.
“Lance?” I answered. The man nodded with a grunting sound, eyebrows raised.
“Vee have now come to zhe final kvestion,” he said, pulling a dildo out of his back pocket. It looked a lot like Ed’s penis but it was purple and sparkly, which I liked better.
“Vhat to do vith zhis?”
I gulped, lowering myself to my knees in front of him and taking the sparkly dildo in my mouth. It tasted a little like the plastic horses I used to play with as a kid, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.
“Aha!” he said, jolting me back to awareness. “I knew vee could not trust you!”
With a stomp of his foot I felt a gust of icy wind and darkness, and before I could even wipe the drool off my face I was back in the Rite Aid parking lot, crumpled on the dark asphalt. My stomach felt half-kilter and I was sad I hadn’t gotten to see Eleanor Roosevelt again. I had so many questions for her, still, like what happened to Amelia Earhart, and why can’t unicorns fly, and how to go down on a girl.
“Hey!” I heard a voice say from the other side of the parking lot. I jumped to my feet.
“Anna, is that you?”
A boy walked towards me, who I recognized as Max, one of the most popular kids in my grade. He was on the football team and had a pool in his backyard.
“This might sound kind of weird,” he started, “But were you just in-”
“Gay Heaven?” I answered.
He nodded, opening his palm to show me a few strands of shiny white unicorn hair.
“Did you get kicked out, too?” I asked him.
Max looked down at his feet.
“I didn’t know how to give a blowjob,” he said.
And that’s when I knew this would be a magical friendship.
Anna Geary-Meyer lives in Berlin, where she writes fiction and poetry. She teaches English and identifies as all the good parts of a Sagittarius but none of the bad ones.