Me
It’s less of a frown and more of a scowl.
Hannah-BananaHead
My mistake.
Scowl all you want.
The bidders will love it.
That’s it. I’m tapping out.
Blackmail material is one thing.
Being paraded like a champion goldendoodle is another. And there’s only so much sisterly hazing a guy can take.
Keys, keys… I pat my pockets, then remember I didn’t drive.
Brian insisted on picking me up so I couldn’t bail early.
Ha! Joke’s on him.
Because one, have Uber, will travel.
And two, the tux I’m supposed to be wearing is still safely tucked away at home.
And since I can’t exactly get auctioned off at a fancy schmancy charity event without it, I have no choice but to leave and retrieve it.
Is it my fault if the Uber driver takes the scenic route?
My phone erupts with a K-pop demon-hunter battle cry. Snooki’s idea of the perfect ringtone for her aunt. I swear Hannah calls just to lodge it in my brain and let it haunt me for hours.
I answer. “Yes, BananaHead.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Her voice walks a thin line between accusation and panic.
The thing is, I’ve never been able to lie to Hannah. Not convincingly, anyway.
I puff air into my cheeks. “Just getting a little fresh air.”
It’s enough truth to get me out the door and as far away from here as I can.
I don’t say that with my outside voice. Not that I have to.
Between Hannah’s suspicious mind and the very real chance she’s tracking my phone, I’m pretty sure my minutes are numbered.
“You have to be on stage in half an hour,” she reminds me. “The vets are depending on you.”
It’s sweet how she thinks she can guilt-trip me.
Please.
As if I’d ever leave my brothers and sisters in arms hanging. A healthy Venmo to Jess’s veteran charity will happen.
Anonymously, of course.
“Roger. Half an hour. Gotta go. Love ya, sis.”
