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"I love the fucking sex, but I need more now, okay? And I no longer want to have sex with you. I am kind of done with your penis I need a new penis.”
"Really?" I'm pissed now. "You're fucking done with my penis?"
"Yeah. I thought you'd be happy to hear that."
"Why the fuck would I be happy to hear that?"
"Because you want me to find another penis to enjoy, right?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're the one that was like, ’Go ahead and apply to the show,’ and?—"
"I did that because you're the one that told me that it was important for you to?—"
"Important for me to what?" she cuts me off.
"Can I see you please? This is a conversation we should have in person."
"I just don't even want to talk about this right now. I am processing a lot and?—"
"Can I see you tomorrow? I got us tickets to?—"
"I have plans tomorrow.” She cuts me off again and I can feel my blood boiling.
“How can you have plans tomorrow? It's Saturday. Our day.” Did my voice break? Shit. Why do I feel so disappointed? I do not want to admit that I’ve been looking forward to Saturday all week.
"Yeah, well, I have plans with someone else tomorrow and I can't break them."
"But we literally had plans for tomorrow up until today.” Out comes the attorney in me. I need to make sure I don’t grill her.
"Actually, I canceled all plans yesterday. I only told you today."
I press my lips together to stop from cursing in aggravation. How and why did this get so complicated?
"So who are your plans with?” I ask casually, like I’m not ready to go off. I feel like a petulant child thats just been told Christmas has been canceled. I’m far more devastated than I should be. Maybe I’m slightly heartbroken. Or just disappointed. My heart is definitely not involved.
I do not love spending my Saturdays with Skye more than I’ve loved any other free time.
I do not love making her laugh.
Or making her glare at me.
Or watching the way she plays with her eye.
Or reapplies her lipgloss hourly.
Or the way she checks me out when she thinks I’m not looking.
Or the way she kisses me when we’re together.
I do not love any of it.
"It's none of your business, Kingston."
“What’s going on here? Is it another guy? You're going on a date already?” I sound accusatory. My attitude would not fly in a court of law. I feel hot, like a dagger has been pushed into my chest. My collar feels tight and I clench and unclench my fists.
"It's with Juniper, okay? I'm taking Juniper to get some new clothes and a makeover and?—"
