“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he flirts right back. It’s rather disgusting to watch.”
“He does not. We detest each other.”
“Oh really.” He sounded dubious.
“Yes. Literally everyone knows that.”
“Thin line between love and hate and blah, blah, blah.”
I wondered if I could get away with being the murderer instead. I’d have to get a jackhammer to tear up the tile in the house to bury his body underneath. I’d been wanting to retile the house for quite some time, but now it appeared I had the proper motivation to do so.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Corey asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Nothing.” I cocked my head at him. “Just thinking about doing some home renovations. Permanently.”
“Uh-huh. Oh look, he sent another text.” He squinted down at my phone. “Huh. He seems a bit annoyed that you didn’t have his number saved in your phone anymore. Poor baby. I’ll write back on your behalf and put him out of his misery. Do you have any pictures of your cock saved? Preferably erect, of course. I think he’d enjoy that.”
“You will be buried under my floors,” I hissed at him, snatching the phone from his hands before he could send a dick pic. Not that I had any, of course. That would be gauche, and I was nothing but a respectable fucking queen.
I looked back at our conversation. Corey was right; he did seem a bit pissed.
Good.
How did you not have my number anymore?
Sandy. Don’t ignore me
SANDY
And that’s exactly what I was going to do.
Because if anyone in this world deserved to be ignored, it was him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. I had far greater things to focus on.
I sniffed and went back to my ironing.
Corey stared at me.
“You have homework,” I reminded him.
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“You have to pass so you can graduate and become rich so I can become a lady of leisure. I won’t expect any less from you, Corey, I really won’t.”
He rolled his eyes. “Because becoming a social worker is such a lucrative field. Are we really not even going to talk about why Darren is texting you?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” I said. “He’s either high on crack or I’m having a nightmare from which I will soon awake and everything will make more sense.”
“Wow,” Corey said. “Between the sex dream and this texting dream, you’re sure dreaming a lot about Darren lately. I wonder what that means.”
“Do you think it hurts to be burned with an iron?”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, smiling widely.
“You’re going to make someone a good housewife someday.”
“Thank you, baby doll. That’s kind of you to say. You’re still not forgiven.”