Page 153 of How to Lose at Love

Idk, she reads a lot of romance novels I guess…

The million-dollar question: Has Dallas texted you?

Texted. Called. Tried to video-chat me, texted, called…

At least he’s trying

I mean, of course he’s trying—he was caught red-handed kissing someone on his porch.

We don’t know that’s what he was doing.

Winnie, I love you, but sometimes you see everything with rose-colored glasses…

Ryann, I love you, but sometimes you have to have a little more faith in humanity.

When don’t I have faith in humanity?!

You automatically assumed the worst!

The evidence is pretty damning, Winnie…

Like I said, hear him out. Let him talk.

I’m not ready to hear him out yet.

All right, well, you know I’m here for you.

Also, I gotta go. Ben’s being cool, but he’s not that cool.

Okay. Text me later.

I will. Send me any updates…

forty

dallas

“Great boobs, good personality, shaves her legs regularly: that’s the holy trinity.”

– Duke Colter

This whole situationis a goddamn mess, and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it.

I’ve called and texted and called Ryann so many times it’s borderline inappropriate, but short of showing up at her apartment, my hands are tied.

The media is having a field day with the story, running it on several news outlets, football’s golden boy now a philandering cheater after going public with a girlfriend just days ago.

Total.

Fucking.

Mess.

Even my mother has called, crying about the story. Telling me what an embarrassment it is and how she can barely go to the grocery store without being stopped by anyone with an asshole and an opinion.

Those weren’t her precise words, but they were close.

Mom has never called to reprimand me before. She knows the routine, knows how the media works. But the photograph was too damning to ignore, even for her.

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