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I’m definitely not the kind of guy a girl takes home to her parents. I never wanted to be and I never will be. I don’t know anything about love, commitment and whatever the fuck they make movies about. The kind that she likes to watch and cry over. I never understood the passion and romance they write about in books. The kind that she likes to read and will write one day.
All I know is how to be a disappointment.
That’s what I’ve trained myself to be and that’s what I am.
Besides, all of this is bullshit anyway, isn’t it?
Because she’s in love with him. And she made the right choice, picking him.
So nothing has really changed.
Well, except the whole dead friendship part.
Standing at the door, my fingers grasping the knob so tightly, I go, “Great story. I specifically liked the part about how our years-long friendship is now flushed down the toilet.”
“Hey, you did it first when you kissed my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, but then didn’t you already explain how she wouldn’t have been your girlfriend if I hadn’t pushed her toward you?” I look him in the eyes as I continue, “Because we both know if I’d gone for her, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
So maybe there’s still a little anger left over from my fucking grieving process.
Hatred flashes through his eyes for a second before he says, “You know what, I think I’m gonna give her a call after all. And then I’m going to ask her to make a choice.”
I changed my mind.
Maybe I will break his legs and leave him on the floor before I leave.
“Between you and me.”
I want to say things but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
He won’t get a single thing from me after tonight.
So I hold my silence.
“And who do you think she’s gonna pick? The love of her life or the guy who makes her sick with hate.”
I take one final look at him and his smirking face before leaving.
When I reach my bike, I dial Ledger’s number. He picks up even before the first ring is done. Meaning he’s as hard up as me.
To fuck someone up.
Good.
I’m volunteering.
“Hey,” he says, his voice alert.
“Meet me at Yo Mama’s in twenty minutes.”
“Fuck yes.”
I know Homer won’t like it, more bruises. He already almost lost his shit when I showed up looking like roadkill for my first day at his office, but he’s just gonna have to suck it up.
I’ve got a dead body to bury.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
