I glare at him, licking the juice from my lip.
“You realize what you’ve done, right?”
A laugh leaves him as he pops another berry into his mouth. “Can’t say I do, but I’m real fuckin’ curious now.”
I sit up taller on my knees, my blood hot?—
“Competitive rage activated.”
He laughs, big and loud.
I don’t laugh.
“Give me thirty days,” I tell him.
“Mouth-eye coordination training,
“Rocky soundtrack—full shebang.
“Blueberries won’t be bouncing,
“they’ll be bowing.
“And your wrist? Gonna ache worse than your longest lonely night.”
Andrew’s grin explodes into another laugh.
“Thirty days, huh? That how long it takes you to plan revenge?”
“Hey,” I say. “Neuroplasticity’s real.”
His brow slants, grin survives. “Neuro-what?”
“You can break a habit or build one in 30 days.
“Takes repetition. Neuroplasticity.”
He’s half-dazed and confused.
“Okay, I don’t doomscroll,” I explain.
“I Google shit...
“How long it takes to master something.
“If orgasms can kill.
“Lifespan of squirrels.
“Y’know, the norm.”
His grin slides off his face fast.
“Wait—don’t fuckin’ play.”
He leans in,
all the joking ripped from his voice?—
