Fallout (Crank 3)

Cherie’s question

is laced with concern.

I must look ready to pass

out or die or something.

And maybe I am.

“Yes … No. Uh-uh-

uh …” Great. Let’s

add stuttering to my list.

“I don’t know. I mean …”

I’d be mad too.

Tiffany is a total

slut. Almost every guy

here has gone all the way

around the world with her!

Okay, it’s a slight

exaggeration, but

I’m in no mood to

disagree. “It doesn’t

matter. Not like I own him.”

The truth of that

stings. My eyes tear

up, and I wish Cherie

would just go away, let me

wallow alone in my misery pit.

As if reading,

my mind, she says,

There’s Billy. I need to

ask him something. I’ll be

back in a few minutes, okay?

“I’m fine, Cherie.