Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I shrugged and took another sip of my beer. “Whatever you tell yourself so you can sleep at night. Or wait, DO YOU sleep now or are you still hanging from the ceiling like a fucking bat?”
Rage glared at me without answering but the glare said it all. If looks could kill. Well, they didn’t need to because SHE could kill.
I reached in my pocket for my smokes and lit one. Rage made a show of waving the smoke out of her face although it was nowhere near her. “You do sleep? Wow, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Tell me, what are the other main differences between the raging bitch you were and the raging bitch you’ve become?” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned in like I couldn’t wait to hear her answer.
“Fuck off, Preppy.”
“Oh come on, Rage. You can do better than that. I mean it’s just so nice to see that you’ve settled down and with a BIKER no less. I really had no idea that you were home knitting scarves and planning babies. I apologize for everything I’ve said, Rage,” I offered, raising my hands in mock surrender. She flipped me off. “It’s totally cool that you’re barefoot in the kitchen. Feminism is for the birds and all that. Oh shit, does this mean you’re gonna be the soccer mom?”
“What about you?” she asked, pointing to the kids running around in the yard. “Doesn’t exactly look like you’re all alone here.”
“Yeah, well, still feels like I am,” I muttered, offering that bit of truth since we were all being honest with our hatred and all.
“I know all too well what you mean,” she said, looking up to Nolan who was still deep in conversation.
“Did we just agree on something?” I asked with a shake of my head and a tinge of disgust in my voice. “Listen, the universe is already fucked up. We don’t need this kind of karma in our lives.”
“No, we did not agree on anything,” she argued. “I was just saying how fucking boring your life is and then I wanted to add how shitty you look after a few months of mild torture.” She leaned in and whispered. “I bet you screamed like a bitch,” she pulled back and took a sip of her beer.
A part of me. A part deep DEEP down part of me liked that Rage had no filter and said whatever was on her mind. It was refreshing in a way because everyone else seemed to be walking on fucking eggshells around me and in a way Rage was right. It was getting really fucking boring.
“Is that what Nolan does?” I asked with a wink. “Does he make you scream like a bitch or do you just pull out your cock and compare who’s is bigger?”
I could hear her audibly growl and then sigh heavily. “Well, Preppy, it’s been real. Until we’re forced together in the same social situation again, which hopefully isn’t any fucking time soon,” she said clinking the neck of her beer to mine with a fake smile plastered on her face that dropped before she even turned back around. She stomped passed Nolan, catching his attention, his head spinning in her direction while she muttered, “Pussy, can’t take torture like a fucking man.”
I responded with a muttering of my own, “Aeropostale Assassin.”
“You know,” I said to Nolan whose buddy had just walked off toward the house. “Sometimes I think the reason she’s so hot is because of that flaming poker shoved up her ass.”
Surprisingly, Nolan chuckled instead of punching me in the face as he watched Rage stalk off, his focus primarily on her swaying ass. “Hot. Yeah, she most definitely is,” he said, biting his bottom lip and rocking his weight from one leg to the other. “I ummmm... I gotta go...” his words trailed off as he chased after Rage who I’m sure was on her way toward whatever circle of hell she usually crawled into to seek solace from her bruised ego.
I took a deep drag of my cigarette. In a way Rage and I hating each other was the most normal thing I’d experienced since I’d been back and for a brief moment I felt a little better. Slightly lighter. Like all wasn’t right with the world, far fucking from it, but maybe, just MAYBE it could be.
Someday.
I felt so good that I almost believed my own lie and that to me was progress.
It also might have been the blow.
Blow or progress, either way I was starting to feel pretty fucking good.
That is until I tipped up my beer up to my mouth and caught a glimpse of a feminine figure through the green glass of the bottle. A figure, although distorted and blurred, the orange glow of the burning torches glowing on both sides of her, I would recognize anywhere. I kept the bottle to my lips a full thirty seconds after I’d drained it, thinking that what I was seeing was a figure of my imagination as it had cruelly been so many times before. Slowly, I lowered the bottle and I was able to see her clearly for the first time in a long time.