Person A: “How long have you been standing there?”
Person B: “Longer than you’d like.”
Bailey was done. Three-thousand and twelve percent done.
Somehow, doing a favor for her best friend, Allison, had translated into letting her asshole brother sublet Al’s room while she was traipsing around Paris. Okay, so she was studying abroad, but Bailey knew her BFF. If Allison was in Paris, there was a metric fuckton of traipsing going on.
It was supposed to be the perfect solution. Aaron would make up for Al’s share of the rent, help with the yardwork, and split the utilities. Instead, he ate her food, had his creepy friends over constantly, stayed up gaming all night, slept all day and hadn’t paid a single bill.
And she’d just gotten home from grocery shopping to find out that one of his loser friends had stolen her laptop, TV, and DVD player. She yanked the two dozen eggs she’d been planning on making quiches with for her mom’s brunch from the shopping bag and stormed outside. Flipping open the polystyrene lid, she grabbed an egg and hurled it at Aaron’s shitty, blue, Dodge Neon. It landed with a satisfying splat. She snagged another egg and threw that one, too. It dripped satisfyingly down the inside of the window that had been left open a crack.
Bailey circled the car and launched egg after egg at it. It was a hot, sunny day. Hopefully, the egg would bake onto the vehicle and smell like ass every time Aaron drove it. She glanced down at the nearly second nearly-empty carton and tried to decide where to land the last for the most damage possible.
Egg in hand, she turned, gasping when she saw her upstairs neighbor, Jack, watching her. Her insanely hot, upstairs neighbor, Jack. Startled, she bobbled the egg in her hand, dropping it, but he bent and caught it before it hit her bare foot.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, her cheeks heating uncomfortably.
“Probably longer than you’d like.” He handed her the egg he’d caught and pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the driver’s side door of the egg-splattered car.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Opening the door, he met her gaze over the roof. “I was going to class, but clearly, I’m gonna have to hit a car wash, first.”
“But…” Her hand dropped limply to her side.
He simply pointed at a slightly shittier, blue Dodge Neon parked across the street.
Welp, that’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ posts.