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“It’s . . . it’s like if one of my playlists were a movie.” “What playlist?” I can’t take my eyes off Carter as he does what I’m sure he thinks is a beautiful, provocative dance, but is really just him gyrating while rubbing his left ass cheek. And I sigh. “Songs That Get White People Turnt.”
even though he explicitly said Mittens wasn’t allowed to sleep with me, when my emotions got the best of me one night, the door creaked open, Mittens was tossed inside, and then the door was promptly shut again. Jaxon doesn’t need to know I was only crying because I had just realized—knee-deep in Red (Taylor’s Version)—that Taylor Swift will, one day, stop making music, and I’ll no longer have a soundtrack to my life. Yes, I was on my period, thank you for asking.
“Jaxon? Why do you think I haven’t been adopted?” The question surprises me, and I’m disappointed in myself for forgetting. Forgetting that despite how happy these kids are, they’re sitting here, waiting day in and day out. To be reunited with their family, to find another one. To be chosen. “I’ve been here longer than Lily, you know. I mean, I’m really happy for her. I’m just kinda confused, I guess, ’cause I’ve been here since I was seven, and I’m gonna be thirteen after Halloween.” She sniffs, shrugging. “Maybe I’m just not what people want. I’m a lot of work.”
SOBBING
Sweaty jocks and cat-attacked cocks don’t mix well.
