Page 138 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

Me: No I don’t.

Memphis: You seem to forget that I know you better than you know yourself.

No he didn’t.

Memphis: That’s why you haven’t been able to push me away like everyone else.

I didn’t push people away. Was it my fault that most people couldn’t handle my attitude—which, by the way wasn’t some defense mechanism. I was simply a realist. Despite what Memphis thought.

The world wasn’t full of fluffy love filled rainbows. It was a dark pit of despair and misery. The sooner he could accept that, then the less disappointed he would be. Unfortunately Memphis had this nagging voice in the back of his head called hope.

I loved my best friend but his optimism was annoying. When we were kids he was the one who believed in Santa and the Tooth Fairy. I tried to tell him they weren’t real, but he wouldn’t believe me. Too be fair the only reason I knew the truth was because I caught Kato slipping money under my pillow one night.

My childhood wasn’t completely disappointing. I used to look forward to Christmas until my father came home one night with two dead deer in his truck. After that I was convinced he killed Santa Clause.

So, I did believe at one point. Know what that got me? Nightmares about my father going for a hunting trip in the north pole. That’s all hope was. One giant nightmare. Yet Memphis still held onto it.

Dumbass.

Me: I happen to like being hated.

Memphis: How’s that working out for you with Gio.

Me: Are you trying to insinuate that Gio likes me?

Memphis: Are you trying to deny that you might like him?

There was only one explanation for that statement.

Me: Does you dad know you’re on drugs?

I could practically hear the sigh with his next text.

Memphis: Nova.

My eyes rolled as I grumbled out a sigh and typed in…

Me: Memphis.

Memphis: Maybe if you stopped fighting everything, you might find some happiness.

Me: You’re kidding right?

Happiness and Gio Mancini weren’t two things I put together.

Memphis: Not everyone’s happily ever after looks how they thought it would.

Me: This isn’t a fairy tale.

Memphis: Fairy tales are overrated.

That I would agree with him on.

Me: Well, as fun as this conversation has been, I have a date with 4 Non Blondes.

Memphis: I feel the need to point out that you only sing along to horrible songs when you’re trying to avoid feeling something.

Just because I liked to listen to certain songs when I was in a particular mood didn’t mean anything. It was better than murdering someone.

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