Page 20 of Driftwood Daffodil

I was surprised he didn’t know. “If you consider Cindy slurping back his dick cheating, then… yeah.”

“Don’t you consider that cheating?”

My eyes rolled over to his. “I think the fashion show answers that question.”

“Asshole.” He muttered then added, “Well, at least you didn’t like him.”

“I liked him.”

“No you didn’t.”

I added a lip curl into my next argument. “Yes I did.”

“All you did was complain about him.”

What did that prove? I complained about everything. Just last Monday I spent all day bitching about the way the shirt I was wearing felt. Sure I found it in Veda’s room, but that shit wasitchy. A little consideration would’ve been nice. She knew I was allergic to wool.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t like him.”

“Yeah right,” Memphis leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. “That boy has absolutely no good qualities.”

“Simon has plenty of good qualities.” Like his ability to shove his dick down someone’s throat, or insult a group of people with one word.

On our first date he managed to make the table next to us get up and leave. Our second date wasn’t much better, but at least it wasn’t at the diner where I worked.

Then there was his kissing technique. It took some serious skill to make someone fear that their face might get eaten. His best quality though, was that there was no possible way I could fall for him.

Memphis snorted, “Name one.”

“He has nice hair.” I was actually kind of envious of the way Simon’s hair seemed to fall perfectly into place.

“You went out with him for nice hair? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“In case you forgot, we’re teenagers,” I pointed out. “Dumb is kind of in the job description.”

There were plenty of other dumb things I’d done. Whatever happened last night for instance. Or the time I thought my bike could ride over water. Oh and can’t forget the time we thought it would be a great idea to shove hot peppers up our nose. Neither one of us smelled right for like a month after that.

At this point bringing up a slight misjudgment on my part was redundant. Memphis had been there for every stupid decision I’d ever made. I was there for his too.

“Besides, I wasn’t the one that tried to convince our seventh grade class that Corey Hart was a god among men.”

That was during his eighties pop phase. He even tried to bring back wearing sunglasses at night.

In typical Memphis fashion, my best friend lifted his chin and said, “I stand by my judgment. At the time he was a god among men.”

Wish I could be so sure of my choices. I kind of just went with the flow. What was the point in fighting, disappointment was inevitable.

“And,” he drawled out, “we were talking about your choice in men. Not mine.”

Not this again.

My eyes rolled. “I think we’ve established that my judgment skills are lacking.”

“What, no. All yourboyfriend, choices have been great.” he said emphasizing the lack of plural on the boyfriend part.

“Hey,” I swung my finger through the air. “I’ve had other boyfriends.”

“Tucker Gerald doesn’t count.”

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