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once a douchebag, always a douchebag.
“Don’t say sorry guys—don’t apologize to that asshole.” Hannah’s chin tilts up. “She won’t be seeing you again. We don’t like you like that.”
“The one with long brown hair? Blonde chick next to her?” The fuckkkkkk… What is he, some kind of Houdini? “I’m right, aren’t I? She’s got brown hair, and she’s in the parent section—right where I’d stick my new girlfriend—and her sidekick is a hot mess, am I right?” “Shut up.” He prattles on, “Oh! They see us!” Zeke’s arm goes up to wave. “How nice, the little blonde one is pointing over here and your girlfriend keeps slapping at her hand like you’re doing to me.” He grabs my limp arm by the wrist, creating a floppy salute. “Wave and say hello, shithead.” “Put your goddamn hand down!”
“Relaxi taxi, bro.” I’ve never seen him this jovial, and it’s seriously wigging me the fuck out. “God, this shit is hilarious! Your girlfriend is freaking out at her friend, you’re freaking out at me—everyone is freaking out!” He makes a blahhhhhh sound and I want to sock him in the nuts so bad to make this end.
“I can’t even look at you right now,” he mumbles. “Why?” I laugh, planting a kiss on the side of his neck. I take a whiff of him; he smells so,
so good and tastes salty. “Because he came in one minute and forty-seven seconds!” Hannah shouts from her bedroom. “I timed it. Sorry folks—I am what I am!”
