Her name is Antonia. Emerz calls her Toni. She's Julian Schnabel's goddaughter. Her father opens restaurants and his father-in-law closes them. Her father sails boats, her mother sinks them. They all have JDs but no one practices. She dropped out of Dwight because her science teacher was stalking her. She either designs jewelry or models it. She loves to take pictures of food, but rarely eats it. She has huge eyes that she must paint with a roller. She's not wearing pants, just tights and one of Emerz' striped Oxfords draped over her tiny frame. Emerz is wearing a Rehab Is For Quitters shirt, unironically.
Emerz and I leave Toni to her phone and the muted TV and go into the kitchen for Perrier and goat cheese. Emerz' house feels incredibly cold, and there's an oppressive citrus smell.
"Any questions?" says Emerz.
"Let me guess," I say. "She's a cutter?"
"No," says Emerz.
"Stapled stomach?"
"Nope."
"Recent Proactiv purchase?"
"No."
"Her brother just drowned? Recently sober? Recently off-the-wagon? Body dysmorphia? Sex addiction? Mormon? Pills? You write her papers? She borrows your car?"
"Well, all of the above, obviously," says Emerz, like, love ain't free.
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