“How you feeling, man?” asks Brian uncertainly, patting my shoulder hesitantly.
“Like my stomach’s about to explode,” I whisper weakly, clutching my midsection. “If I try to take one more bite of that damn marinara I’ll pop. Should we dump the rest?”
“On it,” says Gina, scooping the remains of the week-old spaghetti sauce into the little condiment cup toilet we have in the dollhouse. We decided we had to wait at least seven days before pulling this trick in order to allay suspicion on Julia’s part. And, knowing Julia, insurance against well-founded paranoia was a must.
“Well, just hold it in until we get out there,” says Kelly with half a smile, trying to sound supportive. “I saw her getting out the computer before she put lunch down. I think we’re watching some kind of documentary on it after this.”
“Yeah, a documentary… what WE’RE about to do is gonna be far more entertaining,” says Brian snidely, rubbing his hands together in preparation.
“Be careful, Brian,” says Anna softly, laying a hand on him as well and the other on her stomach. “I need you to stay together.”
“I know. I’m not going anywhere,” he says reassuringly, turning to face the mother of his unborn child and kissing her on the forehead. “And that’s a promise.”
“Cup’s down,” notes Kelly, looking over to the end of the plastic hall as our elevator is lowered down. “Show time.”
“Done!” whispers Gina after shoveling the last handful of remaining sauce down the dollhouse toilet.
“Okay. Look… we don’t have more than a few seconds, but…” whispers Brian as all five of us huddle together, like a football team about to make a final play for the game-winning touchdown at the Super Bowl. “We’ve talked over this so many times we probably all know the plan backwards. Just… do it. Get it done. We’ll be all right.”
“Of course we will!” says Gina softly, clutching my hand in hers.
“Let’s give this bitch a show,” says Kelly with a slight smirk that we can’t help but all share as we head for the cup and one by one head back up for lessons.
The documentary is pretty boring. It’s about rainforest animals. While listening to the droning of the British narrator’s voice, I slowly get into the zone, trying to psyche myself out. Despite the fact that I’m not coughing up actual blood, from all the nerves I feel at this moment, I might as well be (and besides, if my cover gets blown, I might very well end up coughing up REAL blood courtesy of Julia’s thumb). Taking a deep breath, I look around at the other four, who subtly nod to me. Brian gives me a thumbs up under the table of his toy desk.
Julia is seated before the class as always, but isn’t paying particularly close attention to us since we’re just watching a movie on the screen of her laptop. I watch her eyes glance quickly over us before returning to the screen, and that’s when I make my move. Swallowing another hard gulp of air, I clench my muscles, pinch two fingers together, and plunge them back into my throat, holding them there for as long as I can before my gag reflex coughs them out, along with far more spaghetti sauce than I ever want to consume in one sitting ever again.
Everything that happens next happens in a heartbeat. I hack wildly, spewing the goopy red stuff all over my seat and myself. Admittedly, it does look a lot like blood at this point, as a lot of the sharper red color has been drained from it, and now it’s been reduced to a finer liquid. Julia instantly is turning to look at me, and the most horrified expression I have ever seen on a human being’s face crosses over her expression. It’s almost unsettling to see this powerhouse girl who’s personally enslaved five people older than herself without raising a single alarm look so utterly terrified, but at the same time I’m grateful. It means it’s working. Without a thought, she gasps loudly, her hand shooting forward. Delicately, she scoops me into her palm as I continue puking up more marina into her hand, although she doesn’t seem to mind as she covers me with the fingers of her other hand, making for the bedroom door rapidly. She doesn’t even say a word to the others as we disappear into the hallway.
It’s in their hands now to send off that email to Beth. I say a silent prayer for my comrades as Julia whisks me toward the bathroom. She slips in, kicks the door shut, and then quickly kneels by the sink, setting me down so lightly on the porcelain countertop she seems to think I’ll fall apart at any second like a chipped china doll.
“Oh, God… Oh, Jesus, oh, God…” moans Julia in exasperation. “Please let him be okay… please let him be okay…” Instantly, I realize how well this is working, and know now that I have to concentrate on extending this for as long as possible. Weakly, I cough up a few more spouts of fake blood and raise up a quivering hand into the air.
“J-J-J-J-Julia…” I whisper softly. “W-W-Where are you…”
“Oh my God… Jack?” she coos sweetly, lowering her pinky finer into reaching distance of my hands. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. Can you talk?”
“Y-Y-Yes…” I gasp. “J-Just…”
“No. Wait. I’m sorry. Stop. You can’t, you’re… too weak… you’ve thrown up a lot, and there was blood in there… a lot of it. Please, stop moving. Let me take care of it,” she says in a panic, twisting the brass handles on the sink and getting a loud stream of water to come crashing out of the faucet behind me. “I… I… need to… wash you… I… oh, please, please, be okay…”
“Julia, don’t leave me,” I whisper, grappling the soft tip of her pinky in my hands.
“I’m NOT!” she gasps in shock, unable to cope with all of this at once. She winces at the volume of her own voice, and I of course take the opportunity to pike on the guilt as much as possible by gasping in pain and clasping my own hands around my ears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers painfully, her hands quivering with fright over me as if she wants to squeeze me in comfort, but at the same time afraid that she’ll crush me if she lays a finger on me in this state. “Please forgive me, Jack, I… oh, my God, why…”
There’s something very refreshing about watching Julia so powerless like this, watching the only boyfriend she’ll ever have suffer from some unknown affliction that she can do absolutely nothing to help with, because anyone who would know about it would probably have something against the fact that I’ve been her gerbil for the past couple of years. Out of pure, dark retribution stored in the recesses of my soul, I get what I believe to be a well-deserved but nonetheless somewhat sickening sense of joy as I watch my towering giant girlfriend squirm in emotional agony.
“It looks like it’s stopped,” offers Julia in a hushed voice as brightly as she can muster, although her words are cracking as though she’s going to burst into stressed tears any minute. “So… that’s good. But… you’re probably still really weak,” she continues, sliding her fingers as gently as she can under my legs and back, lifting me up toward the water. “I’ll just try to… rinse it off of you, okay?”
I nod, swallowing hard, enough for her to get the message. She brings me slowly under the water, cupping her hands and allowing a warm little pool of it to collect, soaking my clothes and rinsing the thicker patches of red from me. Eventually, she allows the water to rush between the cracks between her fingers and brings me back up to her face. Puckering, she begins to blow hot air down over me, drying me off. Mentally, I try to take note of how long I’ve been here. Probably about five minutes. I need to drag this out a bit longer.
“Thank you,” I whisper weakly, trying to make my voice waver. “I feel better now.”
“Are you sure?” she gasps, her voice so quiet I can barely make out her words.
“Yes. As long as…” I whimper pathetically. “…you’re here, I know I’m… safe.”
At this point, Julia’s attempts to fight back the tears are lost, and I watch a cascade of salty tears dribble down her cheeks as her smile splits from ear-to-ear. “Oh, Jack,” she sighs with euphoria. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to say that. Yourself, I mean. That… you… feel safe… with me. In my hands. Where you belong. I just…”
“I love you, Julia,” I whisper with perfect clarity, emphasizing the syllables just right for maximum effect. I get a little light-headed watching all of this happen above me, surrounded by a fence of Julia’s firm fingers all around me. Hearing this, my giant girlfriend simply closes her eyes, biting her lip, and sobs quietly for a moment, then quickly brings me in closer, puckering again.
She fits my face into the valley between her lips and kisses, enthusiastically and wetly. Her damp, plush lips vibrating against my face, I feel her involuntary dribble of saliva already soaking my hair as it settles in on my head. Julia may be passionate, but when she’s focused she gets a little sloppy, and like a signature on every massive kiss from this voracious evil goddess of a young woman, I always end up with a little more drool on my face than when I’m kissing Gina.
She continues like this for a few more minutes, moaning softly and pecking at my face with her lips like she was trying to feed off of me. Finally, when my face is thoroughly soaked and frazzled from the overwhelming embrace of her lips practically wrapping themselves around my head to suck on it like a lollipop, Julia pops her lips off of me and closes her eyes again, the tears still flowing in full force.
“I love you too, Jack. So, so, SO, much,” she vamps, hardly able to get the words out through sniffles. “You… you scared me just now. And I couldn’t bear to ever lose you. Do you understand? How… how important you are to me? I think I’d rather die than lose you, baby.”
Challenge accepted, Julia. Challenge accepted.