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December 25, 2024 - January 10, 2025
I have this theory. Friends aren’t forever. They’re not even for a while. They come into your life and they leave when something or someone changes. Nothing grounds them to you. Not blood or loyalty. They’re just…fleeting.
“When did your mouth get so fucking dirty, Calloway?” he asks. “The moment I became friends with you.” “Good on me then,”
I don’t want to subscribe to my sister’s kinky sex videos with her husband!
He’s the kind of friend I’ll have for life. Not because we share deep fucking secrets or our heartbreak—we don’t do either—but because we have a passion for the same thing.
“Didn’t you hear? He was a very uncomfortable pillow.” “I thought I was your fucking pillow.” I stiffen. “You didn’t want to be my pillow, remember?
“Calloway, I’d fuck you in every corner of every hallway and then do it over again for good measure.”
“I kissed you tonight because I want your lips to only touch mine. From now until forever. That’s the fucking truth.”
“Like my mating call?” she asks me. “I don’t see any fucking guys responding to it.” “I do,” she says with a smile, staring right at me. “Right. If that’s true, then I’ll be humping you later, sweetheart.”
Freedom doesn’t come with age. It doesn’t magically appear when you’re a legal adult. It comes when you stand up for what you believe in.
“Just get in my arms.” I hold them open. She grins wider. “Say that again.” “Get in my fucking arms, Calloway.” She mock gasps. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The waitress returns, cutting into possibly the most bizarre way a pregnancy can be announced. At a Mexican restaurant. With a tequila shot standoff. In French.
He whispers, “I fucking love you.” I smile, my lips tingling. “Guess what?” “What?” “I love you more than chocolate cake.”
“You’re a hothouse flower,” I tell her. “You can’t grow under natural conditions. You need adventure. And security and love in order to stay alive.”
“You’re not beating me this time, big brother. Watch yourself.” I stumble on his use of “big brother”—said with endearment. Somewhere along the way, I’ve earned the title. That feels fucking good.
