Page 11 of Cold Foot Croc

“Yep?”

“What’s it called?”

“Raynah Big Teets sixty-nine at Yahoo-dot-com.”

“Cash!”

He snickered and dodged her swat.

“Why would you use that name? I can’t use that!”

“Who will know it? No one but the social media sites, and they don’t care.”

“How do I change it?” she asked, poking around the welcome email aimlessly.

“You can’t, now give it back. I’ll get you the two main social media pages set up. Give me five minutes of silence please.”

“I don’t want you setting them up under some dumb name,” she muttered, snatching the phone from him.

It was on a welcome screen for setup. She leaned against the open doorframe and typed in the information it needed, including raynahbigteets69 at Yahoo. Cash was so flipping annoying. She looked up to tell him that, but he was taking a piss off the side of her porch, his wings spread wide. She scrunched up her face in disgust. Delinquent.

“How do I search for someone on here?” she asked.

Cash turned his profile, and she could see his dick.

“Cash! Why?” she complained, shielding her eyes.

“Oh come on. This is not the first time you have seen a three-pound dick. A footlong. An elephant trun—oof!” He took asnowball in the face, and Raynah laughed as she dusted snow off her hands.

“Are you searching for dudes?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“Dudes from your old life? Because I have advice for that. I advise against it.”

“It’s none of your business,” she murmured, clicking around on her empty page. “It won’t let me do anything until I post a profile picture.”

“Let me take it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll sneak a dick pic and post it, and I’ll be banned from the site forever and ever. You aren’t ruining this for me.”

“Is the dude someone you are interested in?” he asked. “An old flame, perhaps?”

She sighed heavily and ignored him. Lifting the phone up, she aimed the front-facing camera function at herself and smiled. At least she thought she smiled, but on review of the selfie, she was definitely grimacing. And also her face was swollen from the water she was retaining, and her cheeks were blotchy, and her hair wasn’t right, and everything was on fire.

“Forget this,” she said, deleting the picture. “This is stupid.” She made her way inside, but Cash said, “Let me take the picture.”

“No.”

“Come on,” he said, catching the closing door again. “I promise I’ll take a good one.”

“There are no good ones. I’m shaped like a bowling ball. I don’t even remember what my feet look like, every inch of my body is aching, and I feel like my body will never belong to me again.”

“Whoa there, crazy-pants. I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I’m pretty sure this is all temporary. That little parasite has to exit your hoo-hah eventually. Trust me. I’m an—”

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