Page 103 of Mistaken Identity
“How’s Creole doing?” Eedie wondered. “How’d Hawaii go?”
My gaze went far away for a second as I remembered how, despite feeling like utter shit, I still left her a sated mess when I walked out that morning.
“She’s good. Hawaii was good. We went to a luau.” I smiled, remembering the way Creole watched me throughout the night. I’d never felt better. “I think that Creole literally hates being a flight attendant, though. She doesn’t necessarily show that she hates it, but I can read the signs since I know her so well.”
“When did y’all meet?” she asked.
I grinned as I remembered the day.
“We were young. Ten or so,” I said. “She moved in two streets over from me, and Laney, my best friend at the time, happened to be riding her bike around the neighborhood when Creole and her family moved in. They hadn’t even finished opening the door to their U-Haul yet when Laney and I pulled up on our bikes. Laney went up and asked her if she wanted to ride around the neighborhood with us, and she agreed until she saw me. Apparently, she didn’t like boys because they were mean.”
“Boys are mean,” Eedie interjected.
I snorted. “Some boys are. Others aren’t. Then again, some girls are bitches, while others aren’t.”
Eedie offered me a disgusted look.
I stopped talking when my phone started to vibrate.
Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew my phone, smiling when I saw my lock screen.
It was a photo I’d taken of Creole on the beach.
She’d been sitting with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.
Her hair was wild in the wind, taking over the front of her face.
But it was the laugh on her face that had me pulling my phone out and taking a photo.
Her skin was sun-kissed, lips red and glossy. Her teeth perfectly straight and white.
She was the entire package.
Another text buzzed, reminding me why I’d pulled my phone out to begin with.
Creole:
Hey
Creole:
Do you think you can get someone sick with your semen?
I thought about my answer for a long second before I replied.
Me:
I’m not sure that’s the type of bodily fluid you can share and get sick. I would think it would be droplets of spit or snot.
Creole:
Gross. Anyway, I’m dying over here. How sick are you?
Me:
Sick enough that Eedie won’t get anywhere near me.
Creole:
