“Laney, sweetie, have we met? I know all the secrets.”
“I knew it first.”
“In we go.” Theo pushes the door open so both Sabrinas can help me inside.
Uh-oh.
Two Sabrinas is a bad sign.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen two Sabrinas, and I once did three shots of Jägermeister in an hour.
But only once, because it was irresponsible of me.
“I’m so boring,” I blurt.
“You arenotboring,” the front Sabrina replies. “Here. Come sit on—well. Not the couch.”
The couch looks like a giant mouth trying to eat the rest of the living room, and it makes me snortle.
Snortles are so unsophisticated.
They’re full-up snort-giggles that come out my nose and make me burp piña colada.
Ew.
That tasted way better going down than burping back up.
Who invented burps?
They should be put in time-out.
“Night, Em,” I hear Theo say. “Love you. Go have fun. We’ve got her.”
“I know. You’re the best.”
I squint at all of the Sabrinas.
“Did you always know Theo’s a nice guy?” I whisper.
“No,” she replies. “Why didn’t maintenance come fix your couch today?”
“Really wanna ask that?” Theo says.
Sabrina sighs.
I don’t like the sigh.
It’sfrustration. I don’t likefrustration. I likeotherf-words.
Dirtyf-words.
And also fun f-words.
Like felish—felitten—feline.
Feline.
I like felines.
