A Sticky Situation (Awkward Love 7)

“Do you charge extra for that?” I giggle. “Or is he the one who’s going to be delivering on your face—”

“Okay, moving on,” Lou yells. She makes a face at me. “God, you’re so immature sometimes. Now, are you sure you’re okay to drive?” she adds, changing the subject before I can defend myself.

“What, are you worried I’ll put a dent in your car?” I tease.

She snorts. “As if I’d even notice. No, I’m worried about you putting a dent in you. I can drop you off at work if you like?”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, even though she’s probably right.

“Okay. If you’re sure. You can take me home and bring my car back later.”

“Thanks,” I say. “We can call it even after this.”

“Even?” she laughs. “How do you figure that?”

“Well, the hotel was your idea, as was that fricking dildo—”

“Lucky?” she asks, shocked. “Wait, I got that for you on your eighteenth birthday.” She giggles. “What are you doing with that?”

“I use it to swordfight with my imaginary friends,” I snap. “What do you think I do with it?”

“No, I mean I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to replace them after a year,” she gasps through her laughter. “But thanks. Now I have this image of you fighting off a home invader with your big, purple dildo.”

“Get rid of it as in throw it out?” I ask in disbelief. “That seems so wasteful. And creepy, since I’m pretty sure the garbage man goes through my trash.”

“Do you want to donate it to goodwill instead?” She sniggers as she pulls up outside her apartment. “This conversation is all kinds of wrong.” She mutters as gets out. She slams the door shut and leans through the open window. “We’ll discuss this more later, when you return my car. Or we won’t. I’m not sure yet.”

“At least I’ve made your morning interesting for you?” I offer.

“I think I’m more disturbed than anything else,” she yells out as I drive off.I pull into a parking spot outside work, feeling slightly more awake and a little bit better about being here. It’s short lived though, because Lisa standing by the front entrance is all the evidence I need that the worst is yet to come.

She straightens up, her lips twisting into a scowl as I walk toward her. I ignore her, so she steps forward to block my path. I sigh, because whatever her problem is today, I’m not in the mood.

“Who did you sleep with to get chosen?” she sneers.

“Why, so you know for next time?” I retort.

This place is worse than high school when it comes to cliques and gossip.

I know I should just ignore her and not poke the bear, but she makes poking so damn irresistible. Her sidekick of the day, whose name I don’t even know, appears from out of nowhere. She giggles behind Lisa, with her hand over her mouth as she glances back and forth between us. I blink a few times, because I’m still trying to work out where she came from. Was she hiding behind the bushes or am I that sleep deprived that I didn’t even notice she was standing there all along?

“Hardly,” Lisa mutters, drawing my attention back to her. “I have too much self-respect for that. Who cares, anyway? He seems like a giant asshole if you ask me.”

“Who are you talking about?” I ask, hiding my grin.

“Oh, come on, Hannah.” Lisa sneers. “You didn’t even know Brix was coming here and you’re miraculously chosen?” she scoffs. “If that doesn’t reek of sleeping your way to the top, then I don’t know what does.”

“I think it’s pretty clear you don’t know much of anything,” I retort in a sweet tone. “And if he’s such an asshole, why do you even care?”

“Care?” She laughs loudly. “As if I care.”

“Good. Then if you don’t mind, I have a job to do.”

I give her a little wave then walk in the opposite direction, almost colliding with Luke.

He straightens himself up and glances at me, an annoyed look on his face.

“Good. You’re on time today.”

I’m late one freaking day…

What about the fifty thousand days where I was ten minutes early? Don’t they count for anything? I take a deep breath and smile, determined to let it go.

“I’m two minutes early, actually,” I say.

I stand there, waiting for him to give me some direction. When he doesn’t, I clear my throat. He glances at me but still gives me nothing.

“So…” I pause when he looks at me. “I just go over there and…sit with him?” I finish. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.

“No, Hannah,” he says irritability lacing his voice. “You don’t just go over there and sit with him. You didn’t win a competition to meet your favorite celebrity to share your hopes and dreams with, nor do I expect you to sit on your ass and get paid to do nothing. I chose you because you seemed the least likely to turn into a fifteen-year-old groupie. Was I mistaken?”