Shanna:If you don’t respond, I’m just going to head over to your place.
How the fuck does she know where I live?
Me:I’m fine. Contagious. Don’t come over.
Shanna:Liar.
Yeah,I’mthe liar.
Shanna:We need to talk.
Me:No. We don’t. We…
I don’t get to finish that message because my phone rings.
Fucking Shanna.
“What?” Don’t say it. I know I’m an asshole, but there’s no love lost between me and my ex.
“Nice.” She laughs, and it makes my skin crawl. It’s her “tinkling” laugh, and it’s fake as fuck.
“I asked you a question. What do you want?”
“Jeez, Luke.” I hear her make that snorty/scoffy noise. “Fine. I’ll cut to the chase. I need a favor.”
A favor? I know all about her favors by now. She’s never stopped wanting shit from me. “No.”
“You don’t even know what it is!” Shanna’s voice just rose an octave. This is going to get worse. I know because I lived with her for a couple of years, and I saw every “Shanna” she had in her arsenal; believe me, there were a bunch.
“Then what is it?”
“God, can’t we even take a moment to catch up? Don’t you care what I’ve been doing? It’s been nearly three years.”
Not long enough. “Fine. What have you been up to?” I’m sure it relates to the favor anyway.
“I’m glad you asked.” She giggles again.
I want to pound the OFF button on my phone down onto the table. This is going to be good. Or bad, rather.
“I’ve been taking classes.”
Eye roll.Shocker. She’s got to have about a million college credits by now.
“And I’ve discovered my true calling.”
Sure she has. This is probably no different than the other “callings” I paid for in the past. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m nearly done with my degree in massage therapy.”
“Degree?”
“Well.” She laughs. “My certification.”
“Uh-huh.” That should make about five or six “certifications” in various other fields.
“I can hear you. The way you just said ‘Uh-huh’ tells me you’re dubious.”
“Uh-huh.” Dubious as fuck.
