Who knows and who cares? In the wise words of Ziye’ Taylor (some author that my sister won’t stop talking about), “Y.O.L.O… either do or die wishing you did.”
That sounds suicidal… but it’s accurate for how I feel right about now.
“Okay, Boy Scout, let’s see if you can redeem yourself from that horrendous game of darts you just played,” Cleo chuckles to herself as we approach a “football” game.
The object of the game being you have to hurl footballs into four tiny holes to win a prize which seems easy enough. But I fucking suck at football. Why else do you think I stick with hockey?
“I’ll even grant one of yourmanywishes if you succeed!” She mocks, her tone incredulous but there’s a hint of amusement beneath her eyes that I won’t take for granted.
I’m gonna fucking win that wish.
Cleo still has two left from our last game, and I’ll be damned if I lose another chance at getting a free Cleo Jones wish.
The first two balls must have missed the memo however, because instead of going in one of the four holes, they go so far left that I almost hit the poor stall attendant.
“Sorry,” I mutter sheepishly, the feeling of my ears reddening further embarrasses me.
The attendant chuckles to himself before granting me yetanotherfootball with a small discreet wink.
With every fiber of my being, I throw the ball and I’m so nervous I close my eyes because I’d rather not see the look of shame on such a pretty girl's face.
I don’t open my eyes when the bells around us chime, or when the stall attendant lets out a low whistle. No. I open them when Cleo Jones’ little body tackles me, squeezing me so tight that the air leaves my lungs for a moment too long. Had she been her brother's size, the two of us would be far, far away based on her tackling hug alone.
“Oh, my fuck! You did it, I had so much faith in you!” She beams, brown eyes dancing with excitement. Cleo’s legs tighten around my torso as she squeezes her arms around my neck tighter.
I give her a look as she rolls her eyes.
“So maybe Ididn’tbelieve in you… but you still fucking won with your eyes closed! If I’d known you could do shit like that with your eyes closed, I would’ve—Never mind.” She pauses and it’s like she comes to her senses all at once. Cleo removes herself from me awkwardly and clears her throat.
“Got too excited?” I tease, because who am I if not a tease?
She lowers her head, and I can feel her smiling before she looks back up at me with a schooled expression. “I’m going to the bathroom… When I get back, I’ll grant your wish,” She mumbles before scurrying off like puppy with her tail tucked between her legs.
I'm silently laughing as I follow behind Cleo holding the four plushies she’d won plus the little otter I’d won for her, and I stand outside of the bathroom waiting for her, like the true gentleman that I am.
I’m on my phone, scrolling mindlessly through my camera roll and I can smell her before I hear her. I’m immediately annoyed as the scents of cheap perfume and burnt extensions crowd my senses.
Chelsea presses her breasts against my arm and plucks the otter plushy from my fingers before I can get a word out.
“I missed you, Blakey,” She coos, toying with theliteraltoy that I’m supposed to give to my future girlfriend.
Yes, I know that I’m moving too fast and no I quite literally do not give a fuck. In my head the princess and I are married with three kids and live near a fucking beach in California.Sue me.
I reach for the otter and groan as Chelsea reels back causing me to fall into her; to the wondering eye, it’d look like we were embracing one another, andyuck. I would never—okay, that’s a lie…I have. But I wouldneverdothatagain. She gave good head, but she clearly doesn’t use her brain. If she did, she’d understand that I could do without seeing her face for the nextmillennium.
Chelsea frowns as I snatch the otter from her greasy fingers and dust it off. I’m probably going to have to get Cleo a new fucking plushy because she touched it. Fuck, I don’t think I can win that damn game again. That shot was beginner’s luck!
“Why are you acting like this towards me,Blakey?I thought we had something special!” Chelsea’s nasally voice whines as she latches onto my arm like a pest.
I try and fail to shake her off and I hate this because Cleo can come back any moment and I would honestly hate myself If I upset her.
“You gave me head, Chelsea, and then somehow fell asleep naked in my bed. It’s not like it was the most passionate sex I've ever had,” I blurt out and immediately feel like shit because Chelsea’s green eyes go sad for a second and I think she’ll take the hint, but no.
Fucking Moaning Myrtle smiles at me and I meanproperlysmiles. With all her teeth and shit.
“So you remember my lips on your cock?”
Fucking delusional ass—
