“Jonathan wants to come here and try to pick me up. Not pick me up like a ride pick me up—like a take me home and screw me pick me up.”
“Yeah—I got your meaning. And?”
“I don’t know.”
“Katie! He’s messing you up!” When Logek gets annoyed, she talks with her hands, and they were waving around a lot right now.
“True story.”
“He thinks he can have it both ways. He doesn’t want the commitment, but he still wants you.”
“Absolutely right. But…”
“But?”
“But if I’m thinking about having meaningless sex tonight—couldn’t it be with him?”
Logek grunted and pulled out her phone and started typing. Curious. Then she turned her screen to me: mean·ing·less [mee-ning-lis] adjective without meaning, significance, purpose, or value; purposeless; insignificant.
Unbelievable. Bitch pulled up the definition.
“Now, doll, which part of that do you think would apply if you went home with Jonathan tonight?”
I scowled at her. She deserved it. Using all that common sense and bullshit.
“I rest my case,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.” Because one “fine” would not have sufficed.”
―
Erin Lyon,
I Love You Subject to the Following Terms and Conditions
