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Ryan. The other tattooed man stands there with his arms crossed, watching
“Let me take you home. You look tired.” “I think she looks good,” says Leif. Which is nice, but not helpful.
I didn’t want a party. Not that anyone asked me. Hear me whine.
Now it’s my turn to laugh. I’m such a basic bitch these days.
“Your mother didn’t invite me, but I heard about it from Julia and Will.” His voice is tight and tense, leaving no doubt that my mom has done him wrong. I just nod. Given the situation, she did what she thought
“Anna . . .” I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, trying to pull myself together. It’s like I’ve been sucker punched. My brain is reeling, the information refusing to sink in, to make sense. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”
One at a time, I feed the beautiful, glorious roses into the machine. It churns and crunches and gurgles and grinds them into a gooey pulp. And I don’t stop until every last rose is gone. It’s cathartic, really. Satisfying. Like some weird piece of domestic performance art. And I’m not even artistic. The silence rings in my ears when I finally turn off the waste disposal. “I want a divorce.” For once, Ryan doesn’t say a thing.
“How are you taking to the single life?” “I haven’t been single in so long.” My shoulders slump. “Oh, God, I’m going to have to register for a dating app. I’m actually going to have to go out and meet new people. That’s so depressing and scary.” “No,” he drawls. “To the contrary. It’s an exciting new adventure in the life of Anna.”
I take another sip of the Bloody Mary. “Oh God, this is like gazpacho gone wrong.”
“Knock yourself out.” There’s a childlike gleam in his eyes. “You’re too kind.”
Clem and Ed have declared me the best neighbor ever on account of all the delicious goodies they’re now getting
I curl my feet up underneath me. So I spent the better part of my teenage years overthinking Twilight. It made me happy.
Romance and menfolk are nice and all; however, they’re by no means a necessity.
There is no twinge of jealousy messing with my insides. It’s just gas or something.
“Will you—can you come out here, please? It’s hard to take you seriously when I’m talking to your buttocks.”
Everyone has their quirks,” I say, starting to feel distinctly judged. As if rage and/or anxiety cleaning wasn’t a thing.
and my mouth feels like death and my cell won’t stop buzzing. It’s so bad that it wakes up Leif, who’s lying beside me. This is due to drunken late-night
He’s sitting cross-legged opposite me on the bed. The only thing he’s wearing is a fetching navy-and-white-striped apron.
“Then he waltzes in here this morning with a stupid grin on his face,” continues Ed. “My brother is not a morning person. Smiles before midday are in limited supply. But not today.”
“Here’s a question for you . . . do you still believe in love?” “That sounds like the start of a Cher song.” She snorts. “Don’t go there.”
I’m not even your girlfriend.” “Eh,” he says. I’m leaving that one alone.
Just listening to his heart beating strong and steady against my ear makes me feel better. “Oh, by the way, I’m sorry about last night and I love you.” The man freezes.
