_OceanofPDF

grabbed a glass Liddy had filled. “To fucking the system.”
“Slow down.” Amilcar took my glass and downed it, slapping it back on
the table. “Your husband can pick you up or no?”
Irma thought she was getting one over on me by filling my glass with
water.
Whatever, I was thirsty.
“Fuck him!” The water felt good, but only made me want more. “That
stick up his ass? It’s, like, all the way in.” My glass was full, so I drank.
“That’s why he stands so straight. True story.”
“Mija,” Irma said, “you tied it up too fast. You got to give him time.
Five years at least.”
“Fance is a five-day kinda girl,” Amilcar said. “Then he’s out. Now,
me? Five minutes, and I know it’s off or on.”
“You guys! I have to say something! You don’t know, and it’s like… big
big big and suuuuper secret. Guerilla secret. Like, I’ll have to kill you and
be mad forever, okay?”
Not waiting for a response, I pushed the glasses away and leaned my
arms on the table without giving a single shit that I was getting the sleeves
wet.
I made eye contact with each of my old friends, trusting them the way I
did in high school. “There’s a contract. A trade. It’s not a marriage. Logan
Crowne and I are… fake.”
As if I was a TV on Super Bowl Sunday, they all reacted to a
touchdown. Raising arms. High-fives. Shouts of “shit,” and “yes,” with
Amilcar crying, “I told you,” with his hand out.
“Pay up,” Amilcar said.
Liddy reached into his wallet, head shaking.
“You took bets?”
They didn’t seem to care that I’d lied or held back a secret, and I didn’t
know whether to be hurt or happy.
“Girl.” Amilcar folded the twenty. “Who are you? You’re not the type to
run off with some dude. Not no-risk Fance. No way.”
“Why would you say that?” I was offended. Maybe they didn’t know
me, and that was why they didn’t mind that I’d lied.
“You stayed at that dumb job you hated for how long? Because you
were afraid of not inheriting it or something? Meanwhile you coulda
worked anywhere?”