Just listened to the audiobook
of you finger-banging some chick.
One star. Only ‘cause I couldn’t give zero.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He squints at me,
trying to dig the real answer out of my eyes.
And he’s Andrew.
If he looks hard enough, he’ll find it.
A bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck.
I glance past him, pushing my hair back.
Then meet his gaze again. “You good?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Two liars fuckin' lying.
// 10:39 PM //
There’s a split at the edge of the crowd near the booth, like someone took a knife to the room, peeled the bodies back, leaving me enough floor space to let me slip in.
Bass kicks,
drums land,
and I dance where nothing can touch me.
I stand in the open,
right where the light strobes,
and sway into the downbeat.
The song hits like the high of a filthy drug,
and I overdose on it.
Arms up,
head thrown, hips slow,
the beat soaks into my skin.
Then a guy moves in,
all drunk hope and sweat-slick confidence.
