AllFreeNovel
Share Us
KINSLEY: Yeah, no, you did.ME: ????KINSLEY: One of these guys is from Twin Peak and skis!!! SKIS, JOSHUA!!!!KINSLEY: Do you know what I do with skis?KINSLEY: I beat the people who displease me with them.ME: Sounds painful.KINSLEY: Why don’t you come over and you can find out?ME: I’ll pass.KINSLEY: Why? Are you naked? What are you wearing? Is it a little silky number with lace?ME: WHAT. THE. FUCK?KINSLEY: I was practising my sexting. No good?ME: Men don’t wear silky numbers with lace.KINSLEY: Good to know. Neither do women. At least not when we’re texting guys.ME: Really?KINSLEY: Really. We’re usually on the toilet.ME: That’s more information that I needed to know.KINSLEY: Relax, Cupid. I’m lying on the sofa without a bra on. I don’t like you enough to text you while I poop.ME: Thank you for the visual.KINSLEY: You’re welcome.KINSLEY: Do you think I should text that to the nice electrician guy who lives in Moose Knuckle?ME: As your matchmaker, I think that’s a little forward before a date.KINSLEY: So should I arrange a date?I paused.
A massive lump had taken up residence in my throat, and I stared at the screen for a moment. I knew the answer there was yes, but there was a big part of me that couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I was fucking this up already.ME: You’ve been signed up for ten minutes. Just hold on until you’ve spoken to some other people.KINSLEY: Ugh, okay, DAD.ME: I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.KINSLEY: Should I go to my room?ME: This is getting uncomfortable.KINSLEY: I’m going to need a new friend to practice sexting with.ME: If that was sexting, it was the worst attempt I’ve ever seen.KINSLEY: Are you familiar with it?ME: Goodnight, Kinsley.KINSLEY: JOSHUA!!!!!!!KINSLEY: Hello?CHAPTER FIVE – KINSLEYrule five: spoilers aren’t a thing in real life.
be patient, kinsley.Wow.
There was a lot of dick pics on the internet.
Yes, yes, yes. I knew I was only supposed to talk to Josh Approved Guys—capitalization necessary, if anyone should end up reading my inner monologue as a future novel—but I was intrigued by the kind of people who did genuinely contact women on these websites.
And holy moly!
I was so leaving this to Josh.
He wanted to do this, so he could spend his days staring at all the schlongs that found their way into my messages. This was definitely not in my job description.
I really didn’t care how thick Johnny_435’s penis was, and nor did I care about the length of KasperTheHungGhost’s dick.
Although I did enjoy Kasper’s username. I was almost tempted to message him and tell him I found his pun amusing, but then… well, he’d probably take that the wrong way and think his dick pic had worked.
It had not.
Of course, none of that explained why I was standing before a dog crate full of ducks.
“But why are there ducks?” I asked, staring at them.
Saylor shifted uncomfortably next to me, presumably just as confused as I was. “They wanted ducks, so they got ducks, I guess. They do have the pond now.”
That was true. There was a huge pond in the center of the gardens of the retirement community that had been recently built, more to be a nice communal seating area for the residents as opposed to a duck pond. Since they’d lobbied for the ducks—a little too successfully, judging by how many were quacking their annoyance at being confined in the crate—they were now building another, smaller pond that would have a fountain and lilies and all that pretty stuff.
I was starting to think they had too much outdoor space here.
And charged way too much for a room.
“What are old people going to do with ducks?”
“Dress them up and parade them around town on a yearly basis in The Great White Peak Duck Festival,” Mabel said from behind us.
“The Great White Peak Duck Festival? That’s not a thing,” I said.
“It’s about to be, child.” She hobbled over on the arm of Grandpa Randy and stopped next to us. “Those are some ugly ducks.”
“They’re ducks,” Saylor deadpanned. “What were you expecting, Grams? Peacocks with vibrant tails? Pure white doves? A parrot?”
“I was expecting pretty ducks.”
“Ducks are ducks,” Grandpa said. “They’re not swans, Mabel.”
“Then I want to speak to the manager.”
Saylor stared at her. “The manager is bored of your complaining. Why can’t you just appreciate the pretty pond?”
Mabel straightened as much as she was able to. “Because the ducks are ugly, Saylor Elizabeth, and I can’t parade ugly ducks around the town. Besides, why do I want to look at ugly ducks?”
“You look in the mirror every day,” Agatha said, approaching us from the other direction. “You tell us.”
Wonderful.
We were about to have us a good old-fashioned elderly throwdown.
I liked it better when it snowed. They all stayed inside. And I didn’t really like snow at all, so that said a lot.
