Page 35 of Darkest Obsession

Okay. So it’s going to be like that?

“Thomas. What the hell? We have to finish this.”

“I said I don’t care. Finish it if you want.”

Has he lost his mind? I’m not going to sit here finishing Thomas’ homework so his grades can benefit from my hard ass work. He has to have lost his damn mind.

“Um… That’s not happening.”

He shrugs. “Why not? You care so much.”

You know what? That’s it. I take my phone and smack Thomas’ annoyingly large shoulder. Hard.

“Ouch. What was that for?!”

“For being a lazy ass. What’s with the gross hair, what’s with the nail polish and the emo ass attitude?”

Thomas scowls and then the faintest smirk crosses his face. He catches himself and that annoying scowl returns. He’s clearly never had a black parent tell him to fix his damned face.

“Gross hair?”

That was his takeaway from everything I just said.

“You normally shower before our meetings.”

I like how he smells out of the shower, but I’m not going to tell his ass that. His funk has a weirdly familiar smell but I can’t place it. I prefer the showers.

“Do I?”

“Yes,” I snap.

I squirm uncomfortably as I remember the scent of his peach shampoo. I guess the only way to keep his hair luscious must be using the girly scents. Still, it smells nice, unlike the sweat or grease or whatever’s going on with Thomas.

“Oh. I didn’t today.”

“I can tell.”

Thomas raises his arm over his head and shoves his disgusting armpit in my face.

“THOMAS!” I scream as I gag.

He laughs hysterically and moves it away. “Okay. That was a real gag. I must reek”

I shove his arm hard and he just keeps laughing. Ugh, he’s so annoying. I shove his arm again and he playfully swats back at me. I grab my notebook from our shared table and swat him back.

“Ouch!”

I hit him again.

“Are we fighting now?”

“Yes.”

I hit him on the shoulders again and the arm as he laughs, and maneuvers wildly to stick his armpit in my face again. Oh hell no, I’m not taking in another whiff of his gross sweaty armpits and whatever stench he has trapped in that hoodie of his.

“Thomas, no!”

“Careful, Clover, we’re in a library…”