Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

For the ones who were told their dreams were too dreamy but who went on to make them come true anyway.

When life gives you lemons…” It squeezes the acid right in your fucking eyes.

“Clyde, what the fuck are you doing?”

Clyde nods. “Oh, you’re right. His crown chakra is fucked.” Bash glares at his friend. “Why are you pretending you know anything about the crown chakra?” “Gwen told me about the chakras yesterday. She said one has to do with enlightenment. And you are certainly not acting very enlightened.” I blink while Bash scowls.

“Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?” I snap. I take something for myself for once. My hands dart out and grip Gwen’s waist. “You know what?” I snarl, yanking her toward me, staring at her plush mouth as her lips softly part—no doubt to say something infuriating. But I don’t let her get a word in edgewise. “Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

There’s nothing like being asked out by your ex-boyfriend in front of his dad, who you were making out with not twelve hours earlier.

Down on the ground, all the reasons to stay away from her feel insurmountable, but up here, staring at her? They don’t feel like reasons at all.

“Did you just get here?” “No,” he grumbles. “I’ve been here all fucking night trying to”—he holds his free hand up in air quotes—“‘evacuate’ Rosie’s stupid mouse.” “Rosie’s stupid mouse?” Ford glares at me. “You know what? You’re right. I promised I wouldn’t ask.” “Let the record show that I love Rosie enough to spend all night sitting quietly in a shitty little bunkhouse just so I can catch her favorite rodent.”

“You’re my limes, Bash. I’m the tequila. You and me? We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives making margaritas, okay?”