Page 58 of Tips and Trysts

Politics Boy

Please.

Valeria examines one of the hibiscus blooms before she faces me. “You know what I’m going to say.”

I glare over my plate of bulgogi tacos. “And I don’t want to hear it, Miss ‘Have Fun with It.’ That’s what you said when I told you he fingered me. I followed your advice and look where it got me. And why? Do you know what I am?Fun.”

“So fun,” Essie chimes in flatly.

“Yeah, the funnest,” Valeria tacks on.

I narrow my eyes at my two best friends, who are supposed to be helping me demolish the biggest taco order the District has ever seen, not ruthlessly stabbing me in the back. “Yep. I’m alreadyso fun. So, next time your advice is to ‘have fun with it,’ reconsider.I’m all good.”

“Can you please not blame Valeria for your failure to clock a peen piercing?” Essie protests. “Just admit you misread him—which is fine! You’re human, Cora. You can’t know everything.”

My jaw drops. “Can’t know everyth—Do you two hate me? Is this some kind of long con to ruin my life? God, what’s next—that I should forgive him?”

The glance they exchange makes me want to pull my hair out.

“I can’t believe you two,” I snap—and I’m so annoyed that I actually push my tacos away.

“Cora, you obviously like the guy,” Essie offers. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“Nope. First of all, you,” I begin, pointing at her. “Dalton would whip that big shit out and find a way to make it fit into your teeny pixie pussy in a heartbeat if you asked, but yourefuse. And you.” I face Valeria. “Tell me all the shit Lander had to do to get you. Seriously, list it out. I’ve got all day.”

“I’m not suggesting that you forgive Everett,” Valeria clarifies, batting my finger away. “Personally, I wouldn’t forgive easily either. In fact, I would make him prove how sorry he is. But you should at least consider why you’re mad. Are you punishing him for what he did, or forallthe things other horrible people did without consequences?”

“She’s right,” Essie chimes in. “Your parents. Felix. You’ve never gotten closure.”

“We’ve been over this hundreds of times: I don’t need revenge to feel whole.”

“But maybe feeling whole isn’t the point,” Valeria replies. “Maybe it’s about feeling free.”

My lips separate, but I don’t speak. And because she’s my best friend, Valeria doesn’t push. She knows she said enough.

But the thing is,I am free—and have been since I was twenty-one. I basically started my life over from scratch. Of course I’m free.

Valeria slides her chair back. “Babe, I’m sorry, but I have to study for my midterms.”

Of course. And if Valeria has a midterm, so does Essie. “Fine. Love you,” I say, accepting her hug when she weaves around the table.

“I love you too.” She kisses my cheek. “Text me.”

Once Valeria leaves, Essie reaches across the table. I take her hand and say, “Essie, you’re the most rational person I know. What would you do?”

“What would I do if a guy avoided me for months while he was secretly laying the groundwork to make me his mistress?”

I nod.

“I’d make him grovel for my pussy,” she replies brightly even though a succinct line of filth just passed over her lips. She tosses her head to the side, flipping her bangs before she picks up her tote bag. “Not beg,grovel. I would make that asshole begfor it on his knees, and I wouldn’t let him stand. I would keep him where he belongs: eye level with my pussy.” She kisses her fingertips and holds her hand out to me once more. “Love you! I’ll text you when my paper is done.”

“Love you too, Ess.”

As soon as she’s gone, I start cleaning. Distracting myself. My bookshelves need rearranging, I decide. Genres? Overrated. The alphabet? Stale. I organize books by horniness withAtlas Shruggedat one end andPride and Prejudiceat the other (yes, even hornier than the monster smut I got into after my ex cheated) because nothing will ever be more erotic than Mr. Darcy bribing Wickham.

It’s past eleven when I’m done, and Everett hasn’t texted me. I know it’s because the debate is tomorrow—the debate he asked me to attend.

My thumb hovers over my phone screen for the hundredth time today, and I imagine what it would be like to cave and accept his apology. It could be simple. After all, I want him. I want to fuck his impeccable body and his flawless face and his evergreen eyes and his clever insults and his brilliant brain and his pierced cock and his freaky libido and his mouth when it enunciates the wordwhore.

---