“It’s not being happy I’m afraid of. It’s the part that comes after.” The part where I lose everything and my heart gets ripped out because it was all my fault. “I can’t go through that again. Besides, I’m too busy with classes and my internship to be distracted by Brandon right now.”
“Brandon.” She drew the word out in a deep, husky voice. “That’s a good name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like if your hussy of a vagina had a voice, that’s what she’d sound like.” I grabbed my backpack and headed toward my room.
“You’re wrong,” Lettie called out. “She sounds like Emily Blunt inThe Devil Wears Prada.”
Did I even want to know why her lady parts had the accent of a snappy British woman? Probably not.
At the small workstation by the window, I opened my laptop and crossed my fingers it still worked.
“Oh no,” I groaned.
TheSystem Errormessage combined with the blue screen of death meant only one thing.
I was royally screwed.