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"Don't get addicted to those. I don't want to be roomies with a junkie because then you'll move on to harder shit and end up doing bath salts and eating my face off."
Why in the world was I going to college? I could be in bed, all cuddled up and shit, dreaming about hot men with abs covered in powdered sugar. Okay. That just sounded weird.
I was stuck between an asshole and a hot weirdo who was also a potential asshole.
Tink appeared in the open door again, his wings rapidly moving, and in his hands he held a . . . slingshot? Oh sweet baby Jesus take the wheel. Where did he get a slingshot? Off of Amazon? That didn't matter. The brownie had taken the time to paint his face. One half was red, the other blue. He looked like he wandered off the set of Braveheart. I mouthed the word no at him.
my patience with walking around the tools that simply stopped in the middle of the sidewalk was already wearing thin.
