Atticus:Yes
Goldie:Okay so anyway, she saw the sticker before me and she turned around and asked me in front of everyone, what size jeans do you wear? And this is high school, okay? A place where sneezing too loudly made you insecure. So being asked to tell my size in front of people was mortifying. So I lied. I said I was a size smaller than I really was.
Goldie:Which is so stupid because looking back, I was a perfectly fine size. I didn’t need to lie to be smaller. But I did. And everyone knew because of the sticker. When I got home that night and realized it was on, I was mortified. But it was too late. She’d already spread this rumor about me lying about my size
Atticus:What a cunt
Goldie:Total
Goldie:Okay, saddest moment
Atticus:Waking up alone this morning after dreaming you were here
Goldie:How do you do that?
Goldie:How do you turn me on with just a text which includes no naughty language or photos?
Atticus:You’ve met the monster now you’re hooked
Goldie:What about the man bun he’s attached to?
Atticus:You tell me
Goldie:I like him, too
Goldie:A lot
“Cat videos?” Miller asks, sidling up next to me so quickly that I almost drop my phone. Locking the screen, I shove it in my pocket with a dissatisfied grunt.
“No.”
He takes the world’s fuckin’ loudest bite into his sandwich, and my skin crawls with irritation. It’s not Miller. It’s me.
“Cat videos always make me smile like that, too.”
I didn’t think I was smiling.
Goldie working through her shit has me working through mine. Paired with the desire to murder Reynold Porter, I’m also battling myself. Trying hard to let go of the past so I can move forward. I got a fuckin’ reason to do it now.
But that battle has me extra spicy, and I can’t help it.
I think that’s maybe why people ask to be alone to clear their head; having to deal with the world while trying to get yours on its axis is… annoying.
Sliding away from the desk, I’m about to pull on my hoodie and beanie and head out when Miller stops me. Dragging a paper napkin across his mouth, he holds up a finger.
“Atticus, can I ask you something?”
I stop, roll my eyes, then turn to face him. “What’s up?” I just want to go. Get out of here and see her.
“Do you think I’m a good mechanic?” He rustles the napkin before setting it down, shoving his hands in his pockets as he squares off, emboldening himself for what will be a truthful response.
My brows pinch a little at his demeanor because I will give him the truth, and we both know it. But why is he assuming the truth ain’t gonna be good?
“What’re you, year five?” I ask, scratching along the small beard on my jaw. I tug my beanie down over my hair, which is also getting long, past my shoulders.
He shrugs. “About.”
I step toward him, and when I drop a hand to the top of his shoulder, he stares at it like he’s just been knighted or some shit.