Page 32 of Best Frenemies

“What?” I yelp, turning to Donna to find her already walking away and removing her gloves.

“The morphine. It’s done.”

The argumentative nervousness inside me wants to question her rapidly about the timing of consent, but the rest of me is too busy relaxing as the warmth of the good juice spreads across my body and into my limbs.

Oh boy. That’s a little weird, but I definitely don’t feel my foot so much anymore.

I don’t feel my thoughts so well anymore either. Everything is spinning in a foggy alley of confusion, but Mack, much to normal Katy’s chagrin, sits stalwart at my side.

“I think…” I pause midsentence when it feels like my mouth isn’t connected to my face. I even reach up to feel my lips, verifying that they are, in fact, still connected to my jaw.

Dang, what’s in this stuff?

Drugs, my mind tells me, and I giggle-snort.

“I think I like drugs.”

“You feeling good, Katy Cat?” Mack asks, and I look over at him to note that he’s still smiling that big, handsome, stupid smile of his.

“Don’t call me that. We made a rule. No nicknames with cats or Katys.”

“What did you say?”

“I said,don’t call me that.”

Mack looks at me quizzically, and I start to question if being on morphine is supposed to feel like you’re having a stroke.

Oh God, what if Iamhaving a stroke?Maybe the whole seashell in my foot thing wasn’t even a thing, it was a stroke thing.

Mack says something else, but I can’t listen with how hard I’m having to concentrate on Domma as she does something with my tootsie footsie. I don’t think they mess with feet during strokes, do they?

“Katy? Did you hear me?” Mack asks, and I just…I don’t know…I decide I don’t really feel like answering him.

I ignore him instead. He grabs my hand, but I lift it away with a jerk that nearly knocks poor Nurse Llama off my foot.

“Whoopsie woo!” I cry, clutching my arms to my chest and giggling.

Mack looks from me to the nurse, so I take the time to peruse the side of his face.

Goodness, his side profile is even handsome.It’s kind of infuriating that the one person I really don’t like, I find incredibly attractive.Stupid, good-looking motherfucker.

Instantly, I decide now is a really great time to give Mack Houston the middle finger. Discreetly, I lift my left hand and then proceed to hide my right hand behind it as I flip him the bird.

Ha. Fuck you, Mackie Mack!

He looks over at me, and his gaze flits from my eyes to my hand. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes, but he also smiles. “Are you flipping me off right now?”

“No.”Yes.

“Hmm,” he mutters. “Must be my mistake.”

“Darn right.” I shrug and casually put both of my hands in my lap, confident in my finger behind the hand concealment method. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked, bro.”

“Bro?” he asks on a cackle.

---