“I can take it back, you know.”
He stared up at her and said nothing, hands behind his head, legs stretched out on the thick quilt.
“I’m only 15 so it’s not like it matters, but I can take it back,” she threw her hair back expectantly.
Pulling a hand from behind his head, he slowly moved his gaze from her pouting face to his thrick, b road nails. He flicked at this for a second or two before kicking off his sneakers.
“Fine you sonofabitch. Go ahead and lie there while the best thing youv’e ever had walks right out of your life. You’re gonna be real sorry when I’m not home waiting for you to pick me up tomorrow,” her voice cracked, but she quickly picked up speed and volume, “Real sorry, Landry. That’s right keep sitting on your hick ass there. I’m done.”
He tugged at his white t-shirt, trying to force it to cover his belt. Hearing the door slam behind her, he rolled over on the wood floor, pulling a quilt over his long legs that smelled like warm, sweet grass.
No comments:
Post a Comment