Seven Days in June

by Tia Williams

I curl up with ‘alone’ like a security blanket. Alone doesn’t care that I don’t shave my legs in the winter. Alone never gets disappointed by me.” Eva sighed. “It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Know why I have nice skin?” Eva winked. “No man stressing me out.”

“Who let that bleached peasant in here?” Cece was the queen of policing women who had her hairdo. Which was half of Brooklyn. “Is she wearing Walmart denim?”

BROO AJAJAJ

Women didn’t get to be bad boys.

By virtue of being a woman, she’s stronger. Girls are given the weight of the world, but nowhere to put it down.

Just then, the single Cursed fan in the audience burst into applause, his purple witch hat wiggling. Then he exclaimed, “You’re a fellow fangirl! Do you have Sebastian’s S pin?” “Nah, it’s been sold out every time I’ve logged on to EvaMercyMercyMe.com.” Eva’s face was on fire. He’s tried to buy the pin? He knows my website?

THIS I TOO CUTEEE AAAAAAAA

“The burden isn’t on me to explain it, Rich. The burden’s on y’all to fix it. Good luck.”

“Stop writing about me.” Only Eva could’ve noticed the change in his expression. She saw the flinch. The slow, satisfied curl of his lip. His bronzy-amber eyes flashing. It was like he’d been waiting years to hear those words. Like the girl whose pigtails he’d been yanking during recess all year had finally shoved him back. He looked gratified. In a voice both raspy and low, and so, so familiar, Shane said, “You first.”

OMGGG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Genevieve trusted beautiful boys. She was safe with them, because they wanted prom queens, not her. Boys in her league were the ones to worry about.

“Is it cool that I’m sitting here?” “No.” “Are you an asshole?” “Oui.”

Broooo HAHAHAAH

And calm his thundering heart by watching airport-reunion videos on YouTube. (Besides running, this was his clean coping mechanism.)

Yhis is so silly

“How do you know anything about me? You’re not on social media.” “Nah, people are strange enough in real life. I don’t need to view their psychosis through a zany filter,” he said, scowling.

“You burst into my solitude, demanding to be seen. You were overwhelming. Just wild and weird and brilliant, and I never had a choice. I liked everything about you. Even the scary parts. I wanted to drown in your fucking bathwater.”

“You’re not a person,” said Audre, with disdain. “You’re a robot.”

Damn it'll be your own damn kids