Page 15 of Head Over Feels
“Oh, shit,” saidBlondGuy.Heck, he’d been there too, hadn’t he?
Jaime’sboyfriend—Jaime’sfreaking boyfriend!—frowned. “What?”
“Youknow,”Iblurted out. “Thiswas a mistake.Sorryto bother you.PretendIwasn’t here.”Ispun around.
Mygrip on the brochures was too tight, and apparently at exactly the wrong angle.AsIturned, the ones in the middle spewed out of the stack like a deck of cards, falling to the floor and spreading out in a messy avalanche.
Icould stop and pick them up, orIcould run.
Iran.
ON THE SCREWFELICIA DISCORD SERVER
NotMyRealNameDecember15, 5:53am
Hello.Thanksfor letting me in the server.Mycharacter on the show wasDane, the conspiracy theorist.Itwas pretty accurate.Ihope you understand ifIdon’t disclose myIRLname.I’mglad you’ve figured out who leaked our info to the show.Ihave access to information most people don’t, soI’mgoing to track downFelix’saddress and other info.I’llgive you an update later tonight
ConVinceDDecember15, 7:21am
Thanks,@NotMyRealName, but let’s talk about what our goals are here.I’mnot up for anything that’s going to get us arrested.
TyTyDecember15, 7:34am
Goodpoint,@ConVinceD.Iwant to make sureFelixunderstands we know what he did, and we’re pissed about it, butI’mnot signing up for anything violent
TrentTDecember15, 7:52am
Agreed.Noviolence, no ruining his finances or job or anything.Ijust want to send a message.Maybeannoy the shit out of him.Preferablysomething that’ll leave a lasting reminder but won’t actually damage something valuable
CHAPTER4
MALCOLM
MAY
Itucked the six-pack under my arm soIcould push the button to lock my front door.ThankfuckCraighad replaced all the key locks on the house with these keypads.Muchmore secure andIdidn’t have to worry about carrying keys unlessIdrove somewhere.
I’dlearned to drive with my left foot—automatic transmission for me from now on—butIdidn’t drive whenIplanned to have even one drink.OnedayImight be more confident in my muscle memory, butIhadn’t gotten there yet.
Soon nights like tonight, whenIwas going toFosterandCraig’shouse—nominally for the games but mostly for the company and the beer—Gregwould pick me up.We’dbecome pretty good friends since that day at the pet resort back inJanuary.He’djust shed his waste-of-space cheating boyfriend, andIwas glad to have someone to hang out with.Fosterspent most of his time withCraignowadays.Whichwas as it should be, them being together and all.Ididn’t begrudgeFosterany of his happiness, andIlikedCraig, thoughI’dnever tell him that to his face.
Oncehis ex wasn’t around to discourage him from spending time with his friends,Greghad become a regular atFosterandCraig’sgame nights.NotthatJaimehadn’t been spending time with his own “friends”, but whatever.Hisloss if you ask me.Gregwas a great guy; he deserved someone who would treat him right.
Don’tget any ideas, now.Thisisn’t some sort of friends-to-lovers shit.EvenifGregandIhad any sort of chemistry, no one wanted to be saddled with an old, broken-down screw-up with occasional night terrors and more mental issues than my therapist knew about.
Anyway, likeIwas saying,Greghad come to pick me up.Ikept the six-pack under my arm soIcould open the passenger door of hisSUV.
Gregsaid, “Hey”, asIsettled into the seat, but he didn’t even look at me; he was admiring my cat,Mariposa, as she judged us from her post in the front window.
“Hey,”Ireplied wittily.Iset the six-pack on the floor.I’dpicked upShiner’sfinestDortmunderspring ale to impress everyone.
Gregput theSUVin reverse but turned to me instead of backing out of the driveway. “Howold isMariposa?”
“Um, she’s about fourteen,Ithink.”
“Huh.Doesshe have any arthritis?”
Arthritis?It’dnever even crossed my mind to consider whether she might have arthritis.Shit, nowIcould add cat dad to the list of thingsI’dfucked up.
