Meanwhile: Ashley's Theory of Everything

Silence sometimes shouts.

"But I don't get it!" A groan. Then a pummeled pillow, two fists sinking into its cotton swell.

"What don't you get?" Across from her sat a raven-haired girl. She crossed shins as she surfed through TikTok, randomly. Naturally. Like water through a blowhole. Another hand delved into the bowl of grapes beside her thigh, popping one into her mouth.

"I don't know." Now it was a sigh. "Maybe... the whole meninism thing in general?"

Raven hair curled her legs up. With a deliberate push, her hands set her body farther along the stretch of wall as she gave way to an exhalation of her own, and began something that must have been worth saying. "Ash... think of it like this. Not in the present term. The now. But, like, throughout all of history. Since forever ago. You know?'

"Like even so," pointed Ashley, "even so, Grace, it's, like... well, how about you think of it like this."

Grace's lip folded into a cheek, but the girl tried not to show it.

"In every TV show EVER, who gets to have the final say and always remains untouched. Like, think about it."

"Just say whatever it is you're..."

"The guy. Am I right?"

"Ehhh," Grace alternated shoulder lifts.

Rolling her eyes, Ashley ignored her friend's diffidence and continued on. "When pop culture stuff portrays a decent, sturdy dude, yeah they may be hot and stuff but they're always respected by the other women. A tough, independent man will always win the argument. He'll always have the answer that the ladies were completely missing. He'll end up being, like, the conscience they desperately needed to win the day!"

"Your point?"

"My point is, you say--"

"I don't say anything--"

"You say," Ashley bulldozed, "that guys are being oppressed. By us, the women. Right? Seen as sex objects, disrespected, manipulated and abused."

Folding her arms, Grace sat back and grabbed another grape. Oh, just let her run the bill.

"But practically, like, in real life, it doesn't really feel that way. It almost feels like it's the opposite, in fact. Because way I see it, we chicks? We're the ones getting the bitch slap. We're being tossed to the wayside!"

Uh-huh, uh-huh, chewed Grace.

"When we go out there, we're supposed to pay for the guys at dinner. We aren't supposed to dog-whistle. We are supposed to pretty much sacrifice our own natural drives in order to buy into this idea that men are 'precious' and 'sacred', when they're, guess what, just as flawed and great and normal and human as us! See what I'm saying?" Ashley flipped her hair to the side. "I'm not hating on men, you know. I'm not like one of those radical misandrists or something. I'm saying that we've developed this idea that because we girls have been such cunts to guys for all of history, now we have to pretend that our pussies don't exist or something. And that men are infallible. And that men can't be hot or sexy too. I know why it's a thing, but you notice how when a girl gets hurt by a guy in some movie nobody cares? But then a guy gets punched by a woman and all of a sudden it's like you crossed a line or something."

Grace shrugged. "So, what, you're saying you want to see more **** against men?"

"NO!" Another sigh, another contemplative tap. "I'm saying that it's weird that there's this kind of aura thing to begin with. Don't you think? It's ironic, that's the word. It's ironic because everyone is trying to protect men and their rights, but at the same time, it's like we're afraid to just treat them honestly." With a snap of her fingers, Ashley leaned back. "That's the important thing, Grace. Honesty. We should be honest, not just with ourselves, but with, like, anything that comes our way. I guess that's the thing I don't really know about. Like, is meninism really an honest thing or is it just a lot of well meaning stuff taken reeeeally seriously, way more than it needs to? Like..."

"I'unno." With another shrug, Grace laminated her gaze onto the ceiling. "It's just, it's about more specific stuff than that, I guess. It's... a systemic problem. It's global, it's governmental, and above all cultural. We've been trained to think a specific way, believe in certain things."

"Won't disagree there." Ashley nodded and took a sip out of her cup. Ahh. Milk tea. Sublimely sweet as always.

"The honest truth, Ash, is that we have, like... instilled in us biases and sexist instincts that we couldn't notice even if we tried."

"Exactly! So how would 'trying' even work? What's the point if it doesn't do anything?"

"Well, the point is that we have a community, girl. We can communicate with each other, learn from other people, from books and articles and videos. And the things that people, men in particular, say who have been through shit really seem to come from that. Honesty, that is."

Ashley dug her mouth, brow furrowing.

"True meninism isn't really about protecting men like they're, you know, all well-hung angels or something. That's still sexism. It's just benevolent, aka benevolent sexism."

More digging. Further furrowing.

"Meanwhile, treating them like crap is also sexism. Hostile sexism. The key is that we're not supposed to behave like clingy girlfriends -- we're supposed to behave like... like responsible, grown up women. For so long it's been a vag-fest, full of randpusses who get to make the rules and have their pick of the, the penis. So to speak. So now. Right now. It's better to listen first, and put our own thoughts second. Whatever comes after, comes after."

Silence. Silence sometimes shouts. Didn't even need to be deaf to hear it.

Ashley, in her quietness, had fixated eyes that appeared far away.

When, finally,

"But I still don't friken knooooow, girl!" Smack, went the pillow.

"About what?" groaned an exasperated Grace.

"Some of these men seem to just be ASKING for it! For crying out loud, you saw Mark earlier?"

"What about it?"

"That tanktop!? Those arms?? He's been working out something silly and now he's showing off and, and... GAWD it's our fault that we get wet. Really. Seriously now."

"Well," popped another grape, "it's not his fault that you're a perv."

"So are you!" One clean throw, and a fresh pillow was delivered straight to Grace's nose. "I saw you lookin'!"

A blush rose across the girl's face. "Ashley you just really can't keep out of your pants can you!"

"COME ON, don't you want to suck on those biceps!? Squeeze those hard pecs like the nice, hunky slabs of meat they are? RIDE THAT HORSEY 'TIL HE'S THREE MILES TO NEVERLAND?"

"Ashley!"

Grinning, Ashley leaned forward. Her eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Grace, I could see it loud and clear. You can't lie to me!" She jabbed a finger against the other's chest. "YOU aren't being honest!"

"Hey, shut up, at least I'm actually trying," retorted Grace, pushing Ashley off. "You aren't doing shit are you?"

"No, Grace, I'm not, do you know why? Wanna?"

"Why?" she snorted, arms defiantly folded.

"Because I have a theory. I have the theory that this world of ours is being fucked up the ass by some cackling entity. That's why it is the way it is. That's why everything is the way it is! Like, if you just think about it, how everything's gone, the only explanation is that there's somebody up there who made the rules of the world to make us girls put guys on a pedestal and worship them, balls and all -- to be the ones paying for some decent sex -- to be the ones that have to ask them out -- to be the ones held responsible for baby making -- to be the ones holding the door -- to be the ones that guys can do anything to and get away with scot free, with no consequences whatsoever!" Harrumph. "And that's also why we can't stop thinking about sex. Why we're all pervs. Its because we can't help it. And we can't help it... because someone up there is having the grandest time of their lives watching us squirm. So why bother? Why bother trying when maybe, at the end of the day, what we thought was right, was wrong all along."

After another bout of silence, Grace looked up. "That's your theory?"

"Yep."

"You're an idiot. Now how about we actually get this project done?" Another breath of air was followed by a scratch of the head. "Jenna, get up here!" Grace yelled, face pointed to the door.

After the 'Coming!', muffled and past the wooden sliver, Ashley scooched over to Grace's side on her knees. She nudged her elbow. "So, really though. Can I have Mark's nudes? I know you have them."

A boorish laugh left Grace's smooth lips as she shifted her position, hand quickly going down to press on her clothed groin before going up to brush a strand of hair away. "Ashley, how about we finish collecting pictures on all the senses," coy grin, "and then we'll see about some pics of Mark's nipples, if they even exist."

The door had swung open in the middle of her sentence, and in walked a leggy brunette, in her hand a half-eaten sub. "What's this about Mark's nipples? Because I'm down to suck on them if that's what's going on."

Ashley flashed another grin.

Grace could only groan as Jenna and Ashley began an invested discourse on the curvature of Mark's triceps and the hypothetical size of his testicles, and whether they'd taste sour or sweet. At this rate, they'd never get this thing done.

But hey, she thought as she glanced at her phone, surfing through more TikTok snippets, in which there were droves of hot young guys her age and right up her alley.

It was fun talking about boys, and boy parts, she had to admit.

Silence? Silence was for masturbatin'.