because every time we talked I complained about Lex, and he said he refused to take sides in World War III.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Asshole Lex: You’re mine today, Sunshine.
Gabi: What? No please?
Asshole Lex: I rarely use that word, too demeaning. Don’t forget to put on makeup, wouldn’t want you scaring dogs and small children. Have a heart, Gabs.
Gabi: Did you put Ian up to this?
Asshole Lex: Why yes, since I can read your mind, I did tell Ian to pay for plastic surgery. You gonna go for the double Ds or straight up to Fs? Taking suggestions?
Gabi: Never mind.
Asshole Lex: Dinner.
Gabi: Huh?
Asshole Lex: Dinner. You’re meeting your first client at dinner tonight. I’ll watch and grade you. Try wearing something that you didn’t buy in the little boy section and, for the love of men everywhere, lipstick. Pad the bra.
Gabi: Last night I had a dream you choked on a girl’s tongue and asphyxiated.
Asshole Lex: Not the worst way to die.
Gabi: The girl ended up being a dude.
Asshole Lex: Tits are tits.
Gabi: I’ll put that on your gravestone.
He didn’t text back. With a growl of frustration, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and tore into the first bag of Pirate’s Booty, nearly biting my tongue in excitement as the cheese puffs filled my mouth.
Just when I was on my second, maybe third, handful of pirate goodness, my phone buzzed. Mouth full of Booty, I crunched down, nearly biting my tongue, then licked my fingers and pulled out the phone.
BFF Ian: So Lex is into dudes now?
I rolled my eyes.
Gabi: On a scale of one to ten, ten being so irritating I want to reach inside his chest cavity and squeeze his heart with my cheese covered hands, he’s an eleven. And is it really all that shocking? That he can play both sides and still score?
BFF Ian: No. Not surprising. I’d be more surprised if he struck out.
The cheese was starting to leave a metallic dry taste in my mouth. I swallowed and fired back another text as my stomach settled with fullness.
Gabi: Thanks for the food.
BFF Ian: ???
I frowned.
Gabi: The food basket? With a card that said it was from Spider-Man? But hotter?
BFF Ian: Spider-Man’s a child. Superman’s a man, ergo, man in his name. May as well be Spiderboy, piece of shit!
Gabi: Are we seriously having this conversation right now?
BFF Ian: The comics are better, I’ll give Spidey that.
Gabi: So it wasn’t you?
BFF Ian: I would never demean myself by pretending to be an inferior superhero whose only claim to fame is being bit by a harmless radioactive spider. Superman was born on another freaking planet . . . I rest my case.
Gabi: It’s too early for this.
BFF Ian: Spider-Man’s a little bitch.
Gabi: Alright then! Talk to you later, keep your cape on, the world isn’t out to get you. Ever think you take the whole Superman nickname a bit too . . . seriously?
BFF Ian: >>>>>
In Ian speak that basically meant we were on a time-out until he deemed me worthy of his forgiveness. I sighed and glanced back down at the basket. Maybe some chocolate wouldn’t hurt. I felt like I was hungry all the time, which was stupid. It wasn’t like I was homeless.
Just soon-to-be homeless.
My phone rang.
Seriously! Was the entire world up early?
“Lex, I swear I’m going to castrate you if you say one more thing about tits!”
The phone was silent, and then, “Mija?”
“Dad!” I choked. “Sorry, Lex has just been—”
“No need to explain.” He chuckled. “I’ve met him.”
My dad was the best. He knew me inside and out, which meant the last time Lex came to my house for Cinco de Mayo and I accidently confused him with the piñata, my dad was the one to hand me back the wooden bat and then twist me back toward him. He was a prankster like that.
Lex claims it didn’t hurt.
But I used to play softball, so . . .
“What’s up, Dad?”
He was quiet, and then, “Mija, we know it was you.”
I blinked back tears as my throat swelled with emotion, injustice, and—if I was being completely honest—a lot of anger. “And I tried to be so nonchalant about it.”
He laughed. “Yes, well, I recognized your handwriting. What did I tell you about giving us extra money?”
“You said I couldn’t drop out of school. You never once said I couldn’t help out,” I argued.
“Mija, you need