Page 2 of Strange Lad

No rats this time.

Because, in my opinion, that deck shouldn’t be allowedever.

Don’t be a sore loser.

Sore loser, myass.

His rat deck is impossible to beat! Seriously, he’s got that thing rigged or cursed or something.

That’s another thing I never thought would happen to me—I'm addicted to playing Magic: The Gathering. Sure, I played it a little as a teenager with Phoenix, but never to this capacity. I spendmoneyon this shit now, which reminds me that I need to stop by the card shop soon and get some new creatures. I’m tired of being annihilated by fuckingrats.

Just as I’m about to text that, I feel Phoenix creep his face over my shoulder. I shriek, flailing to hide my phone in my chest.

“Jesus,” I rasp, my pulse in my fucking throat. “Don’t sneak up on a guy like that.”

“I’m literally right behind you,” he deadpans.

Blowing a raspberry at him, I shove my phone in my pocket while my gut lurches. It feels like I’m abandoning my kid or some shit. Ineverleave Oli on read. Like…it’s just not done between us. We say bye or see you soon at the end of every text conversation. And because my phone is glued to my forehead when we talk, we don’t have much lag time between replies. It’s making me queasy not replying.

But obviously, I can’t give anything away, especially when Phoenix asks, “Who you texting?”

“Sonia,” I blurt, smothering the wince in my features, and spin to face him. “Excited?” I ask instead. I mean, he must be. Those three months of being separated from Eli were rough onhim, and now he’s going to be reunited, writhe in his arms, and profess his love.

I’m kind of jealous.

I can relate to the excited part; although it’s entirely different for obvious reasons.

That being said, I’m confident that Oli and I are coming up on best friend level here. Shit, that feels horrible even to think when myactualbest friend is right here, looking at me suspiciously. I force myself not to gulp and grin brightly.

Whatever he thinks he saw vanishes.

“I can’t even describe how excited I am.” He bounces on his heels like a kid about to get unlimited candy.

Must be nice.

I force a laugh and squeeze his shoulder.

As soon as we get off the plane, I rush to the bathroom near the gate to text Oli. He must think I hate him now or that I got offended. Not much offends me because I’m secure in who I am, but Oli is…sensitive. Damn it.

Shoving myself in a stall that’s got half an ass gasket stuck to it, I scrunch up my nose and give the offending toilet my back while I text.

Sorry, bebe. Got stuck getting off the plane.

I’m not a sore loser, though. Just don’t like rats.

Obviously.

I’m sweating as I wait for his reply, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

Bebe? That’s new.

I own four rats. And you love them and give them treats.

Obviously.

What a brat!

And hispetrats do not count. They’re little fluffy squish balls with weird tails, and one of them even kisses me. Turbo is my favorite for that reason. I huff, roll my eyes—relieved he’s not upset—and quickly type.

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