“Don’t ever talk about my mother,” I snarl, clenching my fists.
“I know how much it sucks to lose a parent. My dad was killed.”
“And? People die and life goes on,” I bark.
“What is your fucking problem?”
“Keep your sympathy. That woman was a waste of space and is exactly where she belongs.”
“Who hurt you?”
“You’re a psychiatrist now?” I laughderisively. “Where did you get your degree? Mutt University?”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, is that what you want?” I squeeze my cock. “All you had to do was ask.”
“Got to Hell,” she snaps and stomps away.
I rake my fingers through my hair in agitation.
Fuck her… fuck everybody.
“Ugh.” Kate slams her pencil on top of her notepad. She usually scarfs down her lunch in record time, but today it lays untouched.
“Who rained on your parade?” I ask, spreading mustard on my hamburger bun.
“I can’t get my thoughts together,” she groans. “This stupid English Lit assignment was supposed to be a breeze.”
Kate and I have to read a nineteenth-century novel, write a reflection essay about it, then complete an autobiography on the author. I choseJane Eyreand Kate decided onThe Scarlet Letter.
“How far are you?”
She wrings her hands. “I just finished reading yesterday.”
“The paper is due on Monday,” I say incredulously. “I’m already done.”
“Don’t remind me.” She sighs. “I’m such a procrastinator.”
“You’ve had plenty of time. We were given this assignment over three weeks ago.”
“She’s always doing shit at the last minute.” Jamal snorts, promptly throwing Kate under the bus.
“Quiet,” she hisses.
He flips her the bird, and she sticks out her tongue at him.
“Well, it’s true,” Lucy chirps. “This has been your MO since freshman year.”
“You too.” Kate throws an apple slice at her.
“Hey,” she protests.
“Anyway, ignore those two. Would you mind helping a friend?”
“Let me think about it.” I grasp my chin and look skyward.
“Pretty please with a cherry, sprinkles, hot fudge,andwhipped cream on top.”
