Page 59 of Unsupervised
We pull up at my house, and he starts to open his door.
“You don’t have to get out. I’m good,” I blurt and make a beeline for the front door. As I’m unlocking it, I hear him pull away. Worst date ever.
The girls are in my room about three seconds after I enter. “Well? What do you think of him?” Zara asks, and as much as I hate to kill the hope in her voice, I’m going to be honest.
“If you ever know you have one hour left to live, spend it with him because every second was a fucking eternity.”
Serena snorts out a laugh. “It can’t have been that bad.”
“What happened?” Zara asks.
“Well, let’s see.” I kick off my shoes and sit on the edge of my bed, tallying on my fingers. “First, he insulted my scooter and said it was horrible and the owner must be poor. Then, he took me to an expensive restaurant where he tried to get me to pay for half his order as well as mine. You know, because only a sexist asshole pays for a woman.”
Serena covers a laugh, and I go on.
“He talked about himself all night and never asked me one question. At the movies, he shoved his tongue down my throat, then told me it was my loss when I got angry.” They stare at me with stunned expressions as I let my hair down out of a ponytail.
“Oh, yeah, and on the way home, he asked if he needed to stop for condoms. He probably would’ve expected me to buy them too.”
The sight of all them gaping at me turns my frustration to amusement. When I laugh, they join me one by one, until we’re all just cracking up in my bedroom.
“I’m so sorry,” Zara says between giggles. “He always seems so nice at school.”
“Grade-A fuckboy douche,” Serena says. “I never want to hear you judge my taste in guys again, Zara.”
Falling back on my bed, I sigh. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to date. It’s exhausting.”
Chapter Seventeen
Layton
Before Kelly, my Friday nights were about poker with the guys, usually at Travis’s house. Travis’s wife, Diane, likes to take pity on me and Dalton and have us over for a home cooked meal occasionally, then we head downstairs to Travis’s man cave.
“All right,” Travis says, joining Dalton and me downstairs. “Kids are asleep.”
“Why can’t you just have your wife do that?” Dalton scoffs, shuffling the cards.
Travis pulls three beers out of the fridge in the corner and sets them on the table. “That’s why you’ll always be single.”
“I’ll always be single because no woman can handle all this.” Dalton runs his hand down his chest.
“You forget, I’ve talked to some of your victims. Janie said your dick was so small she had to pucker up to suck it.”
Dalton shakes his head. “You’re full of shit. I didn’t do anything with her. That girl is a pinata. You’d need a blindfold to hit it.”
“Are you going to deny getting with Big Helen too?” I ask, grinning. Big Helen is not called that because she’s fat. She’s pure muscle. She dubbed herself Big Helen in the live exercise videos that she streams to teach people her workout routine.
Travis pauses as he’s dealing the cards and looks at Dalton. “Holy shit. Did you? I’d be afraid. Her arms are so muscled she looks like she’d finish sucking a dick then bash it against her forehead like a beer can.”
Dalton shrugs. “She came to my place, but she wanted it in the ass. I’m not a fan, but we tried it. Got shit everywhere. Not a good time.”
Travis and I both howl with laughter. “You can’t go to the shit’s house and be surprised when the shit is home,” I point out.
We settle into our game, and we’re a few beers in when I notice Dalton keeps looking at me. “What?”
Sitting back in his seat, he snatches up his phone from the table. “I wasn’t sure whether to show you this, but if it were me, I’d want to know.”
The second he turns his phone around, my night is ruined. It’s worse than a punch in the stomach or a kick in the balls. In the picture displayed, Kelly sits at a table across from a guy, staring him in the eye as he talks. It takes me another second to realize his hand is on hers.
