Page 11 of Hate Notes

His sister was pretty, too. She wore a fun outfit that made me think she must work in a slightly less uptight environment. She was laughing and smiling as she said something to him. Orionlooked like he was preparing for a funeral. Or maybe there really was something deep inside his rectum.

What kind of name was Orion, anyway? If his parents wanted to name him after constellations, they should've chosen the obvious, coolest constellation and called him The Little Dipper.

This is why nobody lets me name things. But come on, what kind of awesome kid would you grow up to be if you were named The Little Dipper?

Orion was at least pretty easy to shorten. I wondered if his friends called him nicknames. Ryan, maybe? Oreo? Ry Guy? Then again... the look on his face said he might not have friends.

The employee from Hate Notes approached Orion with a stack of notecards. They spoke softly for a while, and then Orion handed the man a thick stack of money.

Holy shit. How much does he bribe these people? Was it worth that much money to avoid hearing angry notes aloud? Or was Orion so rich that he didn't care about the money?

Color me intrigued either way.

The employee looked at the money, hesitated, and then took it.

The gathered crowd groaned in disappointment as the Hate Notes employee walked off and counted his money without reading a single note.

Okay. Yeah. My perfect plan just got at least three to four times more perfect.

I hummed the mission impossible theme song under my breath as I watched Orion's broad shoulders disappear into thebuilding. Time to put operation "piss off the hot CEO" into action.

This was going to be fun.

6

ORION

Yesterday, Matthew finally caved. Two thousand dollars had been the magic number. Good riddance. I had to admit I was getting a little less patient with the game. I used to start with small bribes, like a hundred dollars, and slowly work my way up. Lately, I was so over the whole ordeal that I bumped the number to something ridiculous after one or two attempts.

Sometimes, I was lucky enough to get a day or two of peace when I got a Hate Notes employee fired. I liked to imagine I was causing Patricia Rosh, their CEO, a great deal of annoyance. After all, she was constantly forced to hire, replace, and train new employees. If I was lucky, maybe it was even making a dent in their finances.

"Proud of yourself, aren't you?" Remmy asked.

Remmy's outfit was eccentric today, even by her standards. She wore a wide-brimmed hat and a sundress along with a jean jacket covered in random pins and badges. Even the idea of thinking that hard about what to wear gave me second-hand stress.

"No," I said. "Just hoping today will be peaceful. And the disappointment of my enemies brings me happiness."

She snorted out a laugh. "That's a bit dramatic. Don't you think?"

We rounded the corner, and I saw the usual crowd. To my annoyance, I also saw a Hate Notes employee. A woman, this time, huh? So much for a few days of peace. I just got Matthew fired yesterday. Patricia was working fast this time.

It was also much more common for them to send men after me. The women tended to fold even more easily. Remmy said it was because they wanted to get in my pants, but I doubted that. Usually, the first word either gender used to describe me was scary, just how I preferred it. People bothered me less that way. When people bothered me less, I could focus on what mattered without distraction.

"Look, they found a replacement already!" Remmy said happily.

"So it seems," I said, walking up to the steps of my building.

The girl was wearing the red Hate Notes uniform and the hat, but even their garish colors couldn't completely diminish her impact. She carried herself with an easy grace that seemed at odds with her role as a messenger of spite. Brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her eyes were an unusual shade of amber-brown that caught the morning light. She was small—barely reaching my shoulder—but something in her stance suggested she'd never once considered that a disadvantage. Most striking was the defiant look on her face, the slight upturn of her full lips that I wasn't sure I liked.

Why was she looking at me like that? They usually started a little timid and nervous. This girl looked like she was looking forwardto her task. Something about her energy made her impossible to dismiss, though I found myself wishing I could.

I spared a glance at the crowd, most of which were holding up phones to film.

Fucking vultures.

"Good morning," I said as the girl approached with a thick stack of notecards.

I noticed her fingernails. A nail chewer, too? Charming.

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