Page 81 of Run Away Home: Tempered

I start typing, then stop. No, that’s exactly what he wants.

“Are you getting ice or running laps around my basement?” the man asks from the top of the steps.

“Both.” I pick the bucket back up and head to the ice machine. I don’t want to argue with this guy now.

“Hurry up. My dinner service is about to start. There’s too many people in the kitchen as it is.”

I start furiously shoveling ice into the bucket. I’m really supposed to work a full shift thinking about this fucking— FUCK!

My phone vibrates again. This FUCKER! Oh... Never mind. It’s Danny.

I need a shoe box 2 make some stupid freaking diarrhea

Diorama**

LOL THAT’S SO FUNNY

Lord Jesus Christ, Mary, and St. Joseph.

“Are you taking ice or texting? I am not joking. You have to move!”

“All right! All done.” I slam the machine door shut and shove my phone into my pocket. “Thanks.”

I get out of there, hustling down the alleyway with my heavy bucket full of ice. When I get back to my bar, I hurry inside and dump the ice into the freezer. I pull my phone back out.

You can check my closet, but I don’t think I have any shoe boxes. Perhaps in Hayley’s room?

I hope this is not due tomorrow.

I put my phone back in my apron. I don’t even release my grasp before it vibrates again. There’s no way he looked in both closets that quickly.

I pull my phone out again and look down.

Yo what the fuck

u talking about man?

Fuck, I sent that to Tristian. Do I answer now?

That wasn’t supposed to go to you.

No fucking duh. Are u gonna answer me bro? Or na?

I said I fucked ur girlfriend n ur talkin bout shoes?

Ex-Girlfriend, I suppose.

What would you like, a round of applause?

Nah.

I wanna kick ur ass is what I want.

I’m trying to work.

Also, your phone has auto-correct, doesn’t it? Why is everything spelled wrong?

STFU!

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