“Because she can’t handle someone like you,” Bethie argues, and a quick burst of anger flashes across my chest. How dare she say something like that? She has no idea of what I can and can’t handle. Not that I want to handle this. I don’t. Of course not. The dancer smiles, and leans even closer to me as she replies to Bethie, “Why don’t you let your friend decide what she can and can’t handle? If she wants me to stop, she can fucking tell me herself.”
Fuuuuuuck that cunt
