Page 68 of One Spicy Summer

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she snaps, grabbing my shoulders, forcing me to meet her furious gaze. “I was therefor you. Every step. And you let Keifer turn you into this, this shell. It’s been eight years, Prez. Eight years since Reese died, and you're still letting it eat you alive!”

“Eight fucking years since Rygaard ruined my life!” I scream back, voice cracking. “He’s the reason I’m a fucking mess! I can’t just move on like you, likeeveryone! I hate my life! I beg for death every single day!"

“You think I don’t know that?” she yells, stepping back, hands shaking. “You think I don’t sit by my phone, every day, wondering when I'll get the call? Wondering if you're dead somewhere?!”

I say nothing. Tears blur my vision.

“Good,” she says, softer now. “You’re still capable of feeling something.”

“I’m not a robot,” I mumble.

“Could've fooled me, Skeletor,” she sings, and somehow, against every survival instinct, I burst out laughing.

She almost smiles, almost, before snapping back into seriousness.

“You high right now?”

Anger flares up. “Fuck you, bitch!”

She smirks. “Sorry, strictly dickly over here.”

I groan, pushing past her.

But she grabs me again.

“I did all this for a reason,” she says. “I shouldn’t even tell you. But screw it. You and him, you’re both stubborn idiots. Figure it out.”

And just like that, she storms off, peels out, and leaves me standing there, groceries scattered, like a streetwalker between johns.

“AndI’mthe crazy one,” I mutter, dragging myself back into my car.

Later…

Agatha’s words gnaw at me as I drive.

Eventually, I have to pull over, blinking through the tears. Whether I want to admit it or not, Keifer owns me. Not just my body.

My life.

I could leave. Take the car. Disappear. But where would I even go?

The house? Gone. Given to Rafe after I burned every bridge. There’s no family waiting for me. No friends brave enough to deal with my mess.

The phone buzzes again.

This time, it’s Keifer.

Shit.

I answer. “Where the fuck are you?” he barks.

“I was hungry. I picked up snacks.”

"Get your ass back home. We’re ready to play."

Groaning, I mutter, “Don’t you guys get tired of this shit?”

“Not this shit again, Prez.”

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