Haunting-Adeline
seconds ago and have just been sucking air through the straw. It’s the mostac on my mouth has go en in a year now.“Whoa, personal space,” I mumble, se ng the glass down. I avoid Daya’seyes, searching the restaurant for the waitress so I can order anothermar ni. The faster I have the straw in my mouth again, the sooner I canavoid this conversa on some more.“Don’t deflect, bitch. You suck at it.”Our eyes meet, a beat passes, and we both burst into laughter.“I suck at ge ng laid, too, apparently,” I say a er our laughing calms.Daya gives me a droll look. “You've had plenty of opportuni es. You justdon’t take them. You’re a hot twenty-six-year-old woman with freckles, agreat pair of ts, and an ass to die for. The men are out here wai ng.”I shrug, deflec ng again. Daya isn't exactly wrong—at least about havingop ons. I’m just not interested in any of them. They all bore me. All I get iswhat are you wearing and wanna come over, winky face at one o’clock inthe morning. I’m wearing the same sweatpants I’ve been wearing the pastweek, there’s a mysterious stain on my crotch, and no, I don’t want tofucking come over.She flips out an expectant hand. “Give me your phone.”My eyes widen. “Fuck, no.”“Adeline Reilly. Give me. Your. Fucking. Phone.”“Or what?” I taunt.“Or I will throw myself across the table, embarrass the absolute shit outof you, and get my way anyways.”My eyes finally catch on our waitress and I flag her down. Desperately.She rushes over, probably thinking I found a hair in my food, when reallymy best friend just has one up her ass right now.I procras nate a li le bit longer, asking the waitress what drink sheprefers. I’d look through the drink menu a second me if it weren’t rude tokeep her wai ng when she has other tables. So alas, I pick a strawberrymar ni in favor of the green apple, and the waitress rushes off again.Sigh.I hand the phone over, slapping it in Daya’s s ll outstretched hand extrafirm because I hate her. She smiles triumphantly and starts typing away,the mischievous glimmer in her eye growing brighter. Her thumbs go intoturbo speed, causing the golden rings wrapped around them to nearly blur.
Her sage green eyes are illuminated with a type of evilness you wouldonly find in Satan’s Bible. If I did a li le digging, I’m sure I’d find her picturesomewhere in there, too. A bombshell with dark brown skin, pin-straightblack hair, and a gold hoop in her nose.She’s probably an evil succubus or something.“Who are you tex ng?” I groan, nearly stomping my feet like a child. Irefrain, but come close to allowing a li le of my social anxiety to air outand do something crazy like throwing a temper tantrum in the middle ofthe restaurant. It probably doesn’t help that I’m on my third mar ni andfeeling a tad adventurous right about now.She glances up, locks my phone, and hands it back a few seconds later.Immediately, I unlock it again and start searching through my messages. Igroan aloud once more when I see she sexted Greyson. Not texted. Sexted.“Come over tonight and lick my pussy. I’ve been craving your huge cock,”I read aloud dryly. That’s not even all of it. The rest goes into how horny Iam and touch myself every night to the thought of him.I growl and give her the filthiest look I can manage. My face would makea dumpster look like Mr. Clean’s house.“I wouldn’t even say that!” I complain. “That doesn’t even sound likeme, you bitch.”Daya cackles, the teeny li le gap between her front teeth on full display.I really do hate her.My phone pings. Daya is nearly bouncing in her seat while I’mcontempla ng googling 1000 Ways to Die’s contact informa on so I cansend them a new story.“Read it,” she demands, her grabby hands already reaching for my phoneso she can see what he said. I jerk it out of her reach and pull up themessage.GREYSON: About me u came to your senses, baby. Be over at 8.“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I really fucking hate you,” Igrumble, giving her another scowl.She smiles and slurps on her drink. “I love you too, baby girl.”
- Page 3 and 4: Haunting Adeline Copyright © 2021
- Page 5 and 6: PlaylistHish- EvilSo Below- SwayBoy
- Page 7 and 8: the subject, but I did take great c
- Page 9 and 10: Ripping my eyes away from the windo
- Page 11 and 12: If it’s not one thing, it’s the
- Page 13 and 14: I’m deep in my musings when my ey
- Page 15 and 16: I press my thumb into the up arrow
- Page 17: before. The hairs on the back of my
- Page 21 and 22: “Let’s take this to the bedroom
- Page 23: the rest of his clothes are s ll th
- Page 26 and 27: loca ons that won’t allow the fuc
- Page 28 and 29: Par cularly about computer science
- Page 30: everybody if I were short.A tall, w
- Page 33 and 34: I wince from the feel of the hair-l
- Page 35 and 36: If Genevieve Parsons is as wild as
- Page 37 and 38: Le ng out a shaky breath, I pluck t
- Page 39: my front door. And I mean, like har
- Page 42 and 43: “Make it extra strong. I’m goin
- Page 44 and 45: rented a dumpster, and we loaded th
- Page 46: “I will,” I lie. She leaves wit
- Page 49 and 50: When I was younger, Nana refused to
- Page 51 and 52: “You need me to call anyone?”I
- Page 53 and 54: painted on her thin lips, and icy b
- Page 55 and 56: Being a real estate agent pays well
- Page 57: The bed is no more, having bought m
- Page 60 and 61: But I couldn’t be both a hacker a
- Page 62 and 63: Right as I ready up again, one guy
- Page 64 and 65: that pisses him off more.I sigh. Wi
- Page 66 and 67: While Jay kept tabs, I allowed myse
seconds ago and have just been sucking air through the straw. It’s the most
ac on my mouth has go en in a year now.
“Whoa, personal space,” I mumble, se ng the glass down. I avoid Daya’s
eyes, searching the restaurant for the waitress so I can order another
mar ni. The faster I have the straw in my mouth again, the sooner I can
avoid this conversa on some more.
“Don’t deflect, bitch. You suck at it.”
Our eyes meet, a beat passes, and we both burst into laughter.
“I suck at ge ng laid, too, apparently,” I say a er our laughing calms.
Daya gives me a droll look. “You've had plenty of opportuni es. You just
don’t take them. You’re a hot twenty-six-year-old woman with freckles, a
great pair of ts, and an ass to die for. The men are out here wai ng.”
I shrug, deflec ng again. Daya isn't exactly wrong—at least about having
op ons. I’m just not interested in any of them. They all bore me. All I get is
what are you wearing and wanna come over, winky face at one o’clock in
the morning. I’m wearing the same sweatpants I’ve been wearing the past
week, there’s a mysterious stain on my crotch, and no, I don’t want to
fucking come over.
She flips out an expectant hand. “Give me your phone.”
My eyes widen. “Fuck, no.”
“Adeline Reilly. Give me. Your. Fucking. Phone.”
“Or what?” I taunt.
“Or I will throw myself across the table, embarrass the absolute shit out
of you, and get my way anyways.”
My eyes finally catch on our waitress and I flag her down. Desperately.
She rushes over, probably thinking I found a hair in my food, when really
my best friend just has one up her ass right now.
I procras nate a li le bit longer, asking the waitress what drink she
prefers. I’d look through the drink menu a second me if it weren’t rude to
keep her wai ng when she has other tables. So alas, I pick a strawberry
mar ni in favor of the green apple, and the waitress rushes off again.
Sigh.
I hand the phone over, slapping it in Daya’s s ll outstretched hand extra
firm because I hate her. She smiles triumphantly and starts typing away,
the mischievous glimmer in her eye growing brighter. Her thumbs go into
turbo speed, causing the golden rings wrapped around them to nearly blur.
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