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“Give me a name,” Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. “And I’ll take care of it.” “What—no! I’m grand,” I quickly replied. “I have allergies.” “Me too. To assholes and bullshit,” Johnny snarled. “Now, tell me who made you cry and I’ll fix it.”
“Now,” I sneered, glaring down at their faces. “Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?”
You could love this girl your whole life, the crazy thought persisted inside my brain over and over, if you just let yourself.
She was worth it all.
“Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”