Trickie Nickies
Loving: So, Mr. She’s Not My Girl, how's your girl?
Me: Wouldn’t know. She's not my girl
Soba: You need to stop lying to us. We see her with you
Me: What are you talking about?
Soba: You're so clueless. You need to watch the rag mags to get the scoop
Me: Press is unreliable
Loving: But a pic's worth a thousand words
Loving: -sends pic of Noelle and Nik-
It’s us, the day at the coffee shop when we were flirting over the interview.
I’m slouching in my chair, cheek leaning against my hand, while she sits straight in her seat across from me, pen in hand.
Her brow is raised as she stares me down with a smirk across her lips.
I’m watching her with the same intensity, and if I didn’t know what was being said while we were there, I never would have recognized myself. The look is straight lust, want, need.
Love.
Soba: You ready to fess up?
Loving: Stop this double-life nonsense. We know you're not a saint
I close my eyes and turn off my phone, the lies weighing heavily on me.