oh NO
not “fine”
you might as well quit and start working at Subway
wait are you not into that? It’s kinda hot when a guy spits on you
Me:
I…am not going to answer that question
And I’m definitely not going to be trying to sell myself to a hiring manager obsessed with the art of sandwich synergy
Nicky:
seriously tho are you ok?
I know he’s a dick
I pause, my fingers hovering over the screen. I’m fine. I think. Maybe. It’s not like today was worse than any other random day. It’s not like Anthony doesn’t get on my nerves every second I’m at work, anyway. It just getsexhaustingjuggling thoughts of wanting him and thoughts of hating him. Especially after thatcomment about bending over. But then I think of my sister and my niece.
Me:
I just wish I could quit sometimes. But I can’t. Not while Angela’s still drowning in bills and Ava’s still doing treatment.
I’m stuck
Nicky:
ur not stuck, ur responsible
I promise you there’s a difference
and for what it’s worth, we can totally just kill him and flee to Mexico
I’ve been watching so much NCIS babe I think I could do it without getting caught
A genuine laugh bubbles up, and I pull up on the neckline of my shirt, covering my nose. Part of me wishes we could at least do thefleeing to Mexicopart. I start typing out my response, but halfway through, a new notification pops up on the top of my screen, and I groan into my shirt.
Anthony Voss:
Come in early tomorrow. 7:30. Need to review the Paris release with you before it goes out at 8.
Of course, even his texts are uptight. No emojis, no warmth, no, please. Just tight, precise control.
I toss the phone onto the coffee table like it’s personally insulted me and pad into the kitchen to make a cup of tea before I implode. It’s late, and I know I should probably just go to bed, but my brain’s a mess of thoughts. I either want to strangle him or ride him into oblivion, and chamomile is a healthier choice than drinking.
By the time I’ve got the kettle off the stove and the hot water in my cup, I feel just slightly looser. Loose enough to let my thoughts explode to Nicky, at the very least.
Me:
Okay, so we can’t do that, and I’ll tell you exactly why
I think I’ve officially lost my mind
He’s driving me fucking crazy. We know that. But it’s not just in the “it’s fine” way.
It’s the goddamn animalistic, get-on-my-knees-and-confess-to-a-priest way.
