Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

“So you don’t know who the dad is?” “It’s a bit of a Mamma Mia situation, I’m afraid,” I answer. “Here we go again,” Bo mutters under his breath as Melissa pulls Ted toward her and begins whispering into his ear.

This is some sort of sexy Jedi-mind-trick shit.”

She’s wearing leggings and a cute, oversized sweater with the word Velaris written across it. I think that’s from a favorite book of hers, but if I ask, we’ll never get out of here on time.

“I’ve seen what you read on your Kindle. You’re in no place to judge.”

I huff out a laugh. “No, dingus. The ice maker.” “Did you just call me a dingus?”

“If the dingus-shoe fits.” What the fuck am I saying? I shouldn’t try to be funny or flirt on next to no sleep. Not that I’m attempting to flirt.

“Sarah only referred to me as Darth Loser for a month. A month.”

“So he was a skater boy?” “Yes.” “Did you say See you later, boy?”

“Best of luck with all your future endeavors,” she says, and hiccups.