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I was such a little book nerd.
His first name is Richard. Fat Little Dick.
forensic examination
reluctantly breathe in a steady lungful of cedar-pine spice. He smells like a freshly sharpened pencil. A Christmas tree in a cold, dark room.
“Shortcake, if we were flirting, you’d know about it.”
It’s smug and male and I hate it.
I indulge myself in molar grinding.
a typical male, awkward at the sight of female tears.
The unsaid word homesick continues to rattle inside my chest. Lonely.
In case it’s not painfully clear, I idolize her. She’s the reason I stopped wearing so much eye makeup. I want to be her when I grow up. Her favorite word is darling.
I guess it’s true that I’m always observing, listening, and collecting trivia.
She rubs her eyes, making a mess of her mascara.
Dad is enslaved by her beauty. I know for a fact, because he was telling her roughly ten minutes ago.
To me, the fact she gave up her dream job for a man is a tragedy, no matter how wonderful my dad is, or the fact that I’m sitting here now as a result.
“Wowsers,” he drawls, and I watch his pencil make some kind of mark. “Got a hot date, Shortcake?”