“Front,” Mikey counters, watching too closely.
Beat of silence.
Then from behind Jay, Mae lifts a finger?—
“Back. Obviously. Mason’s a slut.”
The guys exchange glances.
Then Nico wheezes, slapping the table.
Mikey snorts into his drink.
Andrew dies into his palm. “Deadass—I’m cryin’,” he chokes out. “Not her pausing her podcastjustto slut-shame Mason.”
Mikey shoots up, arms raised,
cuts the booth quiet.
“Aight, aight—shut the fuck up?—
“here it comes.”
A beat.
Then—
Hand slides up the back.
Buzzer.
Booth fuckingerupts.
Drinks spill.
Nico and I high-five.
Mikey groans.
Andrew drops back into the booth,
hand over his face.
Two booths down, people are staring,
“I’m so fuckin’ embarrassed,” Jay mutters.
I’m laughing with the rest of them,
but my heart’s not clapping.
She’s just trying to keep it together.
// 11:06 PM //
Nine minutes.
The booth’s bleeding nerves.
