Page 17 of Fuck It (Yama Yama)


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Simon shoots me a look. He knows what he’s done. I can’t say no to a begging kid whose mother just abandoned him. Kneeling down to eye level, I pretend to be thinking about it.

“I don’t know. Does this pizza have cheese, like a lot of cheese?”

“Yes!”

“All right, then.” Toby dances around while I turn to Simon.

“When are you going?”

“About eight. I can pick you up about seven-thirty.”

“I’ll text you my address.” I’m not exactly looking forward to spending the evening at an arcade, but I may get a chance to broach the whole fuck buddy subject while Toby is occupied with the games.

That’s not creepy, right?

“Hey!” Kasha calls out from the porch swing as I start to unlock the door, and I jump, dropping my keys. I was so preoccupied thinking about Simon I didn’t even notice her car parked on the street.

“Damn it, Kasha! You scared the shit out of me!” Yeah, this no swearing thing isn’t going so well.

“You were all zoned out. What were you thinking about?”

“It’s a long story,” I grumble.

“I have time.” She follows me inside and makes herself comfortable on the couch. “Is Sicily here?”

“No, she’s never home until late—if at all.”

“Yeah, Roman said she’s a workaholic. Like he used to be. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Sighing, I drop onto the couch beside her. “Remember Simon from high school?”

“Simon Carr, the guy you hooked up with at the wedding?”

I kick off my shoes and tuck my legs underneath me. “I didn’t hook up with him.”

“Whatever, I know Simon. Roman just hired him to produce TV ads or something like that. Anyway, they’re working together.”

Sometimes this feels like a really small town. “His kid goes to the school where I teach gym.”

“I didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Well, it’s his nephew, Gretchen’s kid, but he’s raising him. I guess she bailed.”

“What a thundercunt! So, you’re trying to get Mr. Audio Video tech in bed?”

Damn. Am I that transparent? Kasha rolls her eyes at the look of surprise on my face. “Please, you’ve lusted after that guy since sophomore year. I was going to invite you both to dinner soon, but I was trying to give you some time to get settled in here.”

“You were going to ambush me when I least expected it?”

Kasha laughs and heads to the kitchen, calling out, “Yes, I was going to ambush you with some dick you desperately need.” She returns with two glasses of wine and hands me one before sitting back down. I’m going to owe Sicily another bottle, but I don’t care. Right now, wine sounds like just the thing.

“How do I do it?” I ask, chewing the inside of my cheek.

“Has it been that long? Okay, when a man gets aroused, his sexual organ grows and—”

I shove her shoulder. “Shut up! You know what I mean. How do I tell him I just want to use him for sex?”

Kasha’s eyes widen. “Are you sure that’s what you want? That’s not really your style.”

Draining my glass, I reply, “No, my style is to dive in headfirst and make the guy my whole life, then get cheated on and tossed aside. Then repeat. I’m done with that.”

Kasha turns to face me. “There’s a happy medium in there, you know. You can have a relationship without letting the world revolve around it.”

“I don’t want a relationship. I want to get laid. Do I just ask him outright?”

Kasha snorts and sips her wine. “Well, I can’t imagine he’d say no. I’d like a video of that, please. The conversation, obviously. Not the sex. That’d be…awkward. You’re always so nice; I can picture it now.” She raises her voice in a falsetto. “Simon, if it isn’t too much trouble, would you mind giving me an orgasm then going away? I’d really appreciate it.”

“I don’t sound like that. And you’re not helping,” I growl.

My phone starts to buzz, and I look down to see yet another scammer calling. I swear my name has ended up on a list or something. Just this week I’ve inherited ten million dollars from a distant relative in London, been awarded a grant I never applied for, and won a new car in a state I’ve never been to. I’d be the luckiest bitch alive except they all seem to need money to process the grant, insure the check, or ship the car. Do people really fall for this stuff?

“It’s another scammer,” I tell Kasha before hitting the accept button. I’m sick of this. I’m going to have a little fun.

“Hello?” I disguise my voice, making myself sound old and frail.

“Hello! Am I speaking to Ms. Childers?” The man has a thick accent that I can’t quite place.

“I’m Ms. Childers.”

“Congratulations, Ms. Childers! I have some very exciting news for you.”

“Oh, really? I could use some good news! I just had open heart surgery and I’m still recovering.”

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