Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Me: I scored two tix!
Hannah doesn’t reply immediately, so it’s back to exploring her phone I go.
I check out her Pinterest account and peruse her boards—both the ones she’s posted and those she’s kept private. Aw. One of Hannah’s unposted boards is entitled “Dream Board.” At dinner, she referenced having one, but I thought she was being figurative.
She’s got an image of a kickass career woman on her board. Scenes of faraway travel destinations, including iconic shots of Paris. And last but not least, there’s a cute little family—a man whose head has been replaced by a question mark, a woman whose face has been replaced by Hannah’s, and a little baby. Oh, my heart. If this family represents Hannah’s dream, then we really are a perfect match. I’d give up all the money in the world, all the answers to all the secrets of the universe—hell, I’d even give up my superpower—to have the kind of unbreakable love my parents had. And then, on top of that, to create a whole other person out of that love. Damn. Even thinking about doing that gives me goosebumps.
My phone pings with an incoming text, drawing me out of my daydreams. Fuck. It’s one of my old fraternity brothers, Alonso. Or, as I’ve always called him, Asshat. To this day, he relies on our supposed “brotherhood” a decade ago to seek favors from me, despite the fact that I haven’t said yes to any of his requests since college.
Alonso: Yo, Henn. I need a favor, brother. I’m up for a huge promotion at work and a little birdie in HR told me it’s between me and a guy from the outside. I’m hoping you’ll dig up some dirt on the outside guy for me—anything I can use to kick him out of the running for the job.
Dick. If Alonso knew me at all, he’d know I only do favors for my tightest inner circle and he’s not in it. Also, that the favors I do for said inner circle bear zero resemblance to this type of self-serving bullshit. For all I know, the other guy might be more deserving of the promotion, so why would I ruin that guy’s chances, simply because Alonso and I happened to be in the same fraternity years ago? Also, is it too much to expect an actual “Hello, Henn, how are you?” from a “brother” texting me out of nowhere for a favor? Fuck him.
Me: Hey, Alonso. Can’t help you. Good luck with the promotion. May the best man win.
As I’m pressing send on my text, my phone buzzes with an incoming reply from Hannah about the tickets.
Hannah: I’m screaming, crying, throwing up, swooning! THANK YOUUUUU!
Me: My pleasure.
Hannah: I hope you didn’t spend too much.
Me: Nope. Like I said, I have a connection.
Hannah: Now, that’s a great friend to have! Tell him or her thank you from meeeee!
Me: I will.
Thank you, self.
You’re welcome, self. Anything for you.
Hannah: They just called our names for massages. Talk soon! Mwah! XOXO
Me: Have fun! XOXO
I pop out of my conversation with Hannah and into her phone, where my gaze is immediately drawn to that porn app again. Fuck it. That sucker is calling to me like a siren.
Once I’m in the app, I head straight to Hannah’s “recently watched” videos—although recently seems to be a relative term in this case, since Hannah apparently hasn’t viewed anything in months. It’s possible she’s been watching porn elsewhere, I suppose, but I have a hunch her lackluster activity on this app means Hannah’s not all that into porn in general. Perhaps, when Hannah said Mr. Darcy’s hand-flex is her version of porn, she was being literal.
I skim the thumbnails of her recently watched queue, hoping something might help me make Hannah’s dirtiest fantasies come true when I visit her in Seattle. But it’s clear this idea is a dead end. Hannah’s two most recently watched videos feature dudes voraciously eating pussy, which I already do, and hopefully much better than that.
The video right before the pussy-eaters features two dudes going at it. Again, not helpful. It’s not that I have anything against two dudes having sex, of course. Love is love. Or lust. Whatever. But I’m not willing to have sex with another man, not even as a gift to Hannah. Looks like there’s going to be a whole lot of pussy-eating and hand-flexing in my near future. No complaints from me on either score.
Okay, that’s it for Hannah’s phone.
Onto her laptop.
It takes me a minute to get in, but when I do, I quickly realize almost everything duplicates what I’ve already perused on her phone. Either that, or it’s off-limits to me, according to my personal code of ethics. But what’s this? There’s a folder on Hannah’s desktop entitled, “The Asshole.” That’s definitely something new.