Page 82 of Tips and Trysts

My phone is nothing but the bearer of bad news: a blurry clip of Cora and some guy doing shots on one of her socials. It’s temporary—will disappear in a few hours—but it’ll be burned in my brain forever. I watch it twice anyway.

I screenshot it. I glare at it.

That shithead’s arm is around her. He’s kissing her temple with his pierced lips. He’s touching her with his tattooed fingers.He’s touching my fucking princess.

There’s a tight feeling in my gut and a lump in my throat, plus these strained inhalations and a tingle in my fingertips…

And I think…Ithink, for the first time, I may be…jealous.

I know I’ll never live this shit down, but I still head to the bathroom where it’s quiet.

Me

Code red.

Lander Dawson

I’m going to murder you. Where are you?

Me

CODE RED.

Dalton Cavendish

Let’s fucking gooooooo. I’ll get my old lacrosse stick and meet you in twenty. Drop me a pin.

Me

What the hell are you talking about?

Dalton Cavendish

Code red. That means we’re brawling in a parking lot

Lander Dawson

I thought code red meant we had to flee to a non-extradition country

Me

…Code red means there’s a cockblock

Why would we have a code for either of those other scenarios? Look at us. We were all Phi Beta Kappa at Princeton. Do you think any of us would last a minute in a parking lot brawl?

Dalton Cavendish

I would hunger games the shit out of any parking lot.

Lander Dawson

It’s glaringly obvious you’ve never read that book, Dalt

Me

Still not convinced you can read at all

Dalton Cavendish

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