Chapter 7
A moment passed where Randy’s wheezing breath was the only thing I could focus on. He’d been smoking too much, I thought, and I made a mental note to call him out on that later. But then Ashley chortled, sending a mixture of saliva and chip debris into the circle. I opened my eyes to find her staring at the T.V. screen over her shoulder.
“Have you seen the ass on LL Cool J?” She snorted and rubbed the dusty screen with greasy pizza fingers. Faith flexed her other hand, the one Ashley was supposed to be holding, and then she ran in down her leg. It left a greasy streak down her creamy skin.
“If we’re going to mess around with this shit, can we at least take it seriously? Have some damn respect.”
Both Ashley and Faith stared at me with wide eyes. Then Ashley spit Vodka and potato chip mush all over my TV and the current on-screen Alanis Morissette’s face.
She dropped her chin and focused on me, her face dusted with crumbs. “Excuse me! You think you’re the boss of us? Like you’re older and wiser because your dad decided to impale himself on a rusty guard rail?” Ashley laughed for a second, as if she was a character on Full House and she’d just made the most innocent joke, and any second the laughter track would play. But we didn’t get the punch line.
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