seventeen
. . .
Sadie
“Fuck my fucking life!”Angrily, I smash my hands against the keyboard, hoping it will magically form words.
“Okay, babe, you need a break,” Yoni says calmly.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
From across the room, he rolls his eyes. “Do you want to talk through the scene? Or do you want to go for a walk?”
“How about you jump off a cliff and fucking die?” I mutter without looking up from my computer’s monitor.
Why won’t this locker room rimming scene work? The characters are primed and ready to go, but everything I type comes out pedantic and boring. Definitely not sexy.
His eyebrows go up. “Okay, so you definitely need to eat something. You can’t survive just on coffee and spite.”
“Watch me.”
With a controlled sigh, Yoni gets up from his desk and walks to the mini fridge in the corner. Door open, he stops and stares.
“Fuck.”
“What?” I look over at his sad face and feel a twinge of emotion for a microsecond before I return to my pity party.
“I forgot my lunch at home,” he says. “And your grocery order won’t arrive for two hours.”
“I don’t need to eat your lunch.” He eats healthy foods and I definitely don’t want to do that—right now, or ever.
“Well, babe, you need to eat something, otherwise you’ll eat me, and I don’t think either of us want that,” he sasses back.
Huffing, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not a cannibal.”
He rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and get some shawarma. Protein. It’ll help.”
Grumbling, I get up to follow him. I open the front door and stop.
Because there’s Jared, standing on my doorstep.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
He holds up Yoni’s dinosaur print lunchbox. “Yo forgot his lunch.”
My knees buckle. Fuck. Why is that so sweet?
“You brought his lunch?”
Jared’s cheeks go pink. “He mentioned the pan esponjado was your favorite.”
It’s my turn for my face to go hot. “So you brought me lunch.”
He swallows. “I plead the fifth.”
“We were going to go downstairs for shawarma,” I finally say. “Do you want to join us?”
He twitches, his whole body flinching.