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Back Thin Skin Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgments
  6. Cast of Characters
  7. Part One
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Part Two
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-one
  30. Twenty-two
  31. Twenty-three
  32. Twenty-four
  33. Twenty-five
  34. Twenty-six
  35. Twenty-seven
  36. Twenty-eight
  37. Twenty-nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-one
  40. Thirty-two
  41. Thirty-three
  42. Thirty-four
  43. Thirty-five
  44. Thirty-six
  45. Thirty-seven
  46. Thirty-eight
  47. Thirty-nine
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-one
  50. Forty-two
  51. Forty-three
  52. Forty-four
  53. Forty-five
  54. Forty-six
  55. A note on the Author

“Oh, fuck him!” yelled the red twin, incandescent with rage. I remember telling the yellow twin, whose mind I had polluted against him, that I might go back with Sebastian.

“You won’t,” she snapped, “because he won’t let you.”

“But,” I reasoned, “the last time I saw him, we were walking through SoHo, looking at shops and holding hands.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she sneered, clutching a ferret to her voluminous bosom, “and stop holding his hand.”

I stared out the apartment window, as my mother had taught me to, and murmured, “I liked him. I liked him because he was so quiet.”

The yellow twin snorted her disgust. “Well, he’s obviously going to be even quieter in your life from now on.”

Sixteen

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PA

The studio head first assigned him to me. I didn’t ask for an assistant but in the end he was very helpful. Right away, I wanted to be his girlfriend. I wasn’t sure that I could love him, or he me, but if ever there was good boyfriend material it was him. He was so clean, so healthy, I wanted to lick his skin. The educated black man with the good-money job and the skateboard. Sebastian with the trim stomach and neat dreadlocks. Sebastian with the good heart and wicked vocabulary.

I drifted home, dreaming of ways to torture him, schemes to get him to buy me things. John came over and I took a Percocet and watched David Letterman. When I fell asleep, my subconscious took over, and I dreamed I was strong.

Sebastian Chase rang a few times, but I said I was busy. I wasn’t. I’d let the phone ring and ring, desperate to pick up, desperate for help. I’d try to pick up the receiver, but the phone would go numb in my fingers and drop to the floor. I could not leave my bed. John went away to Jamaica for a week on research and there was no one to administer relief and nothing for me to do.

My body shook. My chest and stomach broke out in tiny hives. My forehead was dotted with spots. My hair sat in useless half-curls about my ears. I lay in bed, unmoving. And then, when I looked as bad as could be, I found his number and called him.

“Hi, Sebastian. It’s Ruby. I was wondering if you wanted to …”

“Hi, Ruby!” He was so bursting with good health and cheer that I had to plug my ears. “I’m going sailing this weekend. I’m running out the door right now.”

“Sailing?”

“Yes, sailing. What do you think I do on weekends? Play basketball?”

“No. I never said that.” I sank back into bed. “I’d better let you go.”

“No, it’s cool. Look, I’ve got to catch this train. But you can come with me.”

“No, I don’t think so.”