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September 17 - September 17, 2019
Nothing like being accused of attempted murder to complete a girl’s Friday evening.
“Apologize to her? I’d rather exfoliate my skin with barbed wire and then dive into a pool of chlorine.”
“Why would she falsely accuse you of all these things?” “Personally, I’m thinking it’s to make you and the entire pack hate me, to leave me isolated and unhappy. But I’m open to the explanation that she grew up on a diet of paint chips and glue.”
“Anyway, there’s no need for me to be envious of her claim on you—I always give my used stuff to the needy and disadvantaged.”
“You can’t throw me out! I’m Beta female of this pack! I’m of superior rank!” “You’re also neurotic and have cancer of the soul. And I have better things to do with my time than listen to your shit.”
“Very noble, but I have a feeling my phone battery will last longer than your attempt at tolerance.”
Totally straight-faced, Ally replied, “Sorry, I don’t take orders unless I’m naked.”
It was Cain’s youngest uncle, Sam, who had taught Ally how to cook. And how to hotwire a car and escape zip ties. Cain’s uncles, all four still unmated . . . well, they hadn’t really known what to do with a little girl. Their version of raising her had been to teach her “important life skills.”
By the time she was eleven, she knew how to drive, how to skin animals, how to pick a lock, and how to brew beer. She could also reel off the military alphabet and speak Russian, Spanish, Italian, German, and Mandarin. Surprisingly enough, most of it had come in handy at some point.
“Yeah, life will be so very hard and depressing without you . . . it will be almost the same as having you around.”
So, either he has the IQ of a Cheerio or some kind of death wish. We’re not yet sure.”
“Hey, Ally, do you know the difference between a hamburger and a blow job?” At her frown, he asked, “No? Wanna have lunch sometime?”
Once that gaze landed on Roni, it hardened. “Still a tomboy, I see.” Roni cocked her head. “Did you know that a certain study found that seventy-nine percent of mascara contained staph infection? Just watch out for impetigo, food poisoning, boils, and cellulitis—they’re some of the symptoms.”
Ally had had enough. “Shock me, Rachelle; say something true.” That had the crazy heifer gaping.
“Woman, don’t make me hit you with your own broom.
“Hey, don’t you ever fake orgasms with me.” She huffed. “I don’t get why guys get so pissed when girls do that. Hell, your gender can fake an actual relationship.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone bait Cain before,” mused Brad, turning to Ally. “You couldn’t have chosen someone who’s, I don’t know . . . sane?”
“You’re not good enough for him,” Kerrie sneered. Roni snickered. “Yeah, you’re a bitter, unhinged bitch, and I’m a socially challenged tomboy. Go judge me.”
