Page 39 of Broken Halo

I check the time again and when almost ten minutes have past, a silent notification pops up.

Trig: I’m here.

Huh. No banging. At least not yet anyway.

Me: Good for fucking you.

Trig: I know you’re in there. Open the door.

Me: Why? Are you going to bang it down again if I don’t?

Trig: I don’t want to wake your son.

Me: His name is Griffin.

There’s a pause … bubbles come and go … more bubbles until I finally get a response.

Trig: I don’t want to wake Griffin.

Me: You didn’t care about him the other night.

Trig: I was pissed the other night.

Me: Which only proves you’re a selfish asshole.

Trig: Ellie. Open the door so we can talk.

Me: No. I have nothing to say.

Trig: Then you can listen.

Me: There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear. You’re going to do what you need to on my case, am I wrong? The drugs aren’t mine—end of story. If you have information I need, feel free to leave it in my mailbox or give it to Eli. I’ll see him tomorrow.

Trig: Ellie.

Me: Go away.

Trig: You don’t have to say anything but you have to listen.

Me: I don’t fucking have to do anything.

Trig: I thought we were past the fucks.

Me: Never. Fucking never.

Trig: Enough with the interjections.

Me: I haven’t even gotten started with the fucking interjections. I’ll throw interjections at you until I’m red in my fucking face.

Trig: Dammit, Ellie.

Me: Look, you hate me. I get it but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.

Trig: I don’t hate you. We were young. Young and stupid.

Me: Really? Because I’m pretty sure you sent that message loud and clear when you blocked me. And speak for yourself—I was never stupid.

Bubbles work overtime on the screen before they stop. Just when I think he’s given up, there they are again.

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