the right call. You know I’m always here to help.” Max uses the same voice.
“This is kind of big, Momma Joe. Like, I came to you because I couldn’t go to Mom and Dad kind of big.”
“I understand they can be a little bit overbearing. But, as you know, I raised your father, and I know what he did at your age, so you’ll get no judgment from me.”
“I always know I can count on you, Momma Joe.”
“Don’t you ever forget it. No problem too big or too small. Now, tell Momma Joe what is troubling you.”
“Well, I really want to get my dick pierced, but I’m afraid to ask Dad for permission. And JT doesn’t want to do it, so I was wondering if maybe you could.”
JT and I both hold back a laugh, because these two are nothing but fucking trouble and a major pain in the ass.
“Oh, PJ, of course I’ll pierce your penis. I did change your diapers, you know. But you mustn’t forget to take proper care of it. You don’t want to get an infection.”
I stand up and head to the doorway. “Get the fuck in here, you two. Now.”
They both bust up laughing as they hurry in.
“Why won’t you do it, JT? It’s just a dick,” Max asks.
“Fuck that, how about you do it?” he asks Max.
I cut that shit right to the quick. “Not fucking happening.”
“He did your tattoo after watching a YouTube video. I’m sure I can figure it out. What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks, and then he and Amias both bust up laughing.
Chapter 16
Of course I am not worried about intimidating men.
The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in.
~Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Savvy
“Why do you keep looking at your phone? I thought you hated technology,” Chloe remarks snidely, not asks, because I’m still technically not talking to her.
She came back two days early because she said she was sick to her stomach the entire time she was gone, because she misread me.
Misread me? Understatement of the fucking century, dipshit.
“Savvy, come on; talk to me,” she whines.
I slide off my bed, walk past her, and into the bathroom. Then I sit on the closed toilet and take a selfie to send in response to the one Patrick just sent me captioned, “Boooorrrrreeeeedddd.” I roll my eyes as I snap the picture, send it, then type out my response.
Truthfully, I have no idea how he gets the text on the picture, and honestly, I’m not invested enough in technology to figure it out. I am, however, getting invested in him.
10:00 p.m. - You’re with your people. Music is your jam. There is no way you can be, “Boooorrrrreeeeedddd.”
10:01 p.m. - Bet?
10:01 p.m. - Step away from the phone and enjoy. I’m shutting off this evil device.
10:01 p.m. – Fine, I’ll “enjoy,” but only if you leave it on.
10:02 p.m. - I’m going to bed. Have fun.
10:03 p.m. - Sleep well, Savannah. GN.
This entire break, he’s dragged me out of my … existence and brought me more holiday joy than I have ever felt. Some of that joy is due to the texts and the conversations that are incredibly deep. In one, he told me he never would understand why anyone ever muttered the words, “I wish I could be a teenager again,” because it was seriously the most confusing time of our lives. How is it we’re supposed to make a decision within the next year that is supposed to determine the path to the rest of our lives? When I said I thought he had already decided, he said he had, thanks to me, but the question of college was now hanging heavy over his head.
His parents want him to have that experience; therefore, it’s confusing in a different way. He wasn’t sure if he needed a three-hundred-thousand-dollar experience or some assholes accepting him because of his name, therefore fucking over a kid who was probably better prepared, had better grades, and had more of a need for that piece of paper to get ahead.
Another four-hour text conversation was about SATs and his annoyance that the college board had created a test that can ruin a person’s dream in less than four hours, simply because they didn’t test well. I didn’t tell him the scores I received on the three that Whitaker made me take because I, too, think they are a shit way to measure someone.