Page 46 of What If I Hate You
That one makes me choke on my own spit. “Jesus Christ.”
Me
Eat glass, Bodhi.
I type the words but even as I do I can feel my face getting hot. I want to throw my phone, or myself, off the plane.
Harrison
Bear’s blushing. He’s 100% blushing.
Bodhi
Picture or it didn’t happen.
August
I’ll ask Rivers myself. You want me to pass her a note? Check yes or no?
Griffin
Do it. Someone do it. I’ll Venmo you five bucks.
Oliver
I’ll double it if you get her to read it out loud.
I’m about to reply with a string of middle fingers when I see August stand up, stretching like a cat, and amble up the aisle. He stops at Blakely’s seat, and whispers something to her we can’t hear. She doesn’t turn, but her shoulders go stiff and I can see her jaw set even from here. Whatever he says, I catch the little twitch of her smirk. August shoots her a thumbs up, then comes swaggering back, pausing at my row to say, “She says—and I quote—‘If you girls spent half this energy on your power play, we’d have four more wins this season.’” He winks at me, then flops into his seat, giggling like a delinquent child.
The chat explodes.
Griffin
She didn’t even blink, did she?
August
Nope. She’s a machine.
Oliver
Was she mad?
August
Nah. Girl’s stone cold. But also, I think Bear’s in trouble.
Bodhi
She’s gonna eat you alive, Bear.
Harrison
He’d love that for her.
Ledger
Tbh, same.
