Page 27 of Endgame

Shaking my head, I exhaled an impatient sigh and swiped the folder out of his hands. “So, I usually dedicate one evening a week to clipping out coupons and organizing them in here.” My ears burned as I opened the folder and swiped through page after page of discounted offers. “I move the ones with the nearest expiration date to the front and then, when I’ve listed all the items Mom and I need or might need in the coming weeks, I compare the list to my coupons and work out the cheapest way I can get everything.”

“Why?” he repeated and it pissed me off.

“Because we’re not all born with a silver spoon in our mouths, Rourke,” I snapped.

“No,” he said gruffly. “Why do you do this?” He stared at me as he spoke, like I was a big puzzle he had to solve. “Why not leave it to your mother?”

I threw my head back and laughed harshly. “Trust me, if I left this to my Mom, we would have starved years ago.”

Rourke didn’t laugh.

He didn’t even crack a smile.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked, looking down at my folder with a frown. “Couponing?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, uncomfortable. “Since I was eleven or twelve. Why?”

Rourke didn’t reply, but from the look of incredulity on his face, it was pretty obvious that he didn’t approve. He sat on my bed for another minute or so, staring down at my coupon folder before abruptly jerking to his feet and stalking out of my room.

“Goodnight to you, too,” I muttered under my breath. “Ass.”

Rourke

“HEY, DARYL? HAVE you ever heard of couponing?” I felt like a fucking tool asking my best friend that question, but ever since I walked in on Six the other day and saw her messing around with her coupon folder thingy, I’d been curious as hell.

“Don’t you have enough money?” Daryl shot back with a smirk, as we ran side by side down the sandy beach at the back of my house. “Like the TV show?” he added, noticing my serious expression.

I shook my head, maintaining the brisk pace. “Nah, man, like real life, living from a folder, couponing?”

He turned to face me and said, “Sissy?”

I nodded.

“Damn.” Daryl let out a whistle. “That’s rough.”

Tell me about it.“She said she’s been doing it since she was a kid, man.”

“She’s still doing it?” he asked, slowing to a jog.

I nodded.

“Maybe it’s a habit or something?” he offered.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“What about it? What does it matter to you if she’s fucking around with coupons anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” At least itshouldn’t…

Daryl grinned. “Sissy’s getting under your skin, aint she?”

“Nope.”

“You like her,” he pressed, chuckling. “Admit it, Dude.”

“Got nothing to admit,” I shot back coolly.

“You’re a terrible liar, man. Always have been.”

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