We were 26, and our shared love for dicking around bonded us quickly. We didn’t dick around constantly, but we knew how to make the most out of our days.
I heard her breathe in and exhale and watched as she slowly shook her head. “Number of partners?”
I stared at her deep side part, the gray of her roots visible.
She looked up from the paper. “Number of partners?”
There were two ways he said, “fuck you” to her.
He put both hands up and backed himself out of the kitchen. “I’ll have most of my things gone by the end of the day.”
My mother fixates on my weight because it’s the only thing she can’t control.