“Sadie?” Speaking of assholes.
I sniff in disdain and say as neutrally as possible, “Finnigan.”
“So it’s going to be like that, huh? Okay, did you have any trouble with the car?” Batty asks. I think about the Mercedes that I left in the ditch by his driveway. Stick shifts are harder to drive than I ever thought possible.
“Nope,” I lie. He’s quiet, like he doesn’t believe me.
“Well, that’s good, then,” he says skeptically. He definitely doesn’t believe me.
“Your destination is on the right,” the GPS’s automated voice says loudly.
“Listen, babe, I’m—”
“I have to go,” I cut him off. I am in no mood to hear terms of endearment. I disconnect the call with one hand and turn the wheel with the other to enter the school.
About the author:
Brandace Morrow is a full time mom of four, and currently stationed overseas with her sexy soldier. Her recent obsessions are Maroon 5, rum and coke, and reading in no particular order. Despite being terribly awkward with social media, she's everywhere. Frequently subjecting the public to pictures of her minion's messes, and everything that is Momdom in the Morrow house.
Author's Giveaway
At fifteen, I took on the role of Popper out of necessity, forgetting the person I was. That's when I became the lead singer of a grunge metal band.
Now at twenty-two I'm cocky, a pessimist, and violent. My shrink is even fed up with me, suggesting I try something radical to appreciate the value of life.She gives me a card that leads me to him, and ultimately I find . . . me.
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