SL:I will never live that down!!! I continue to mean it literally.
RH:I’m good, thanks.
SL:I learned how to take a selfie. Look!
RH:Oh. Uh. Normally I am a hater of shirtless mirror selfies, since you do have a perfectly good front-facing camera, but this one is nice. Ctrl save.
SL:How about this one?
RH:You lower those sweatpants any more, we’re going to be in dick pic territory.
SL:I’d never.
RH:You could. I would not mind. Yours is pretty.
SL:Pretty??? No.
Really?
RH:Really. I’d delete it after, promise.
SL:
RH:That, my friend. Is a beautiful dick pic. Nicely lit, just a hint of flesh at the base of the shaft, outlined in your sweats. Your hand is positioned artfully, holding the dick. 14/10 for solicited dick pics. Actually, you have a beautiful hand. I could do with some hand pics too.
SL:
RH:It pains me to delete this photo.
SL:Please delete it. I did.
RH:Haha, okay. Now make sure you delete it from the cloud.
SL:The cloud? Oh fuck.
RH:I’ll help you with that when I see you tomorrow.
SL:The cloud or the... subject of the pic?
RH:Both if you’re lucky.
Friday 11:30 a.m.
RH:Thai food AND massages?!
SL:You have a road trip ahead of you. I imagine you’re exhausted. You need to be in top shape.
RH:Thank you.
See you soon.
SL:
Chapter Nineteen
SAMSON FINISHEDpumping his gas and waved to the owner of the station, visible through the little window of the building. He knew the guy well, as well as he knew the Mexican American family who owned the tiny unassuming deli annexed to the left of the building. They made the best fish tacos and ceviche he’d had in his life.
He got into his car and buckled his seat belt. It was freeing, being back in his hometown after a while away. He didn’t have to keep a constant smile on his face now or be on guard against anyone calling him the Curse. He wasn’t a dynasty in Cayucos.
