How to Stay Out of Prison: A Modern-Day Woman's Guide

Chapter 10

Nixon~

I usually cursed people that kept their faces glued to their phones, but this was one of those moments where I wish that I'd had my phone out; Lyrical's face looked priceless.

I also noticed that her eyes were a little bloodshot, and that made her request for alcohol make more sense.

She leaped off the couch-more gracefully than I would have expected-then just stood there, staring at me. After a few seconds, she spoke, and I wondered just how drunk she was. "I thought the sheriff would show up. What are you doing here?"

My brows furrowed as I cocked my head. "The sheriff?"

Lyrical rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she said, all duh-like. "You know, the sheriff?"

"I don't know him personally, but I do know what a sheriff is," I replied, not knowing at all why she was expecting the sheriff. I mean, what kind of party were these two having?

"Uh, I think I'll just...uh..."

Lyrical was around the couch, then standing in front of her friend quicker than I thought her capable. "You will just not just nothing," she hissed, then she got on her tiptoes to look her friend in the eye. "You better not leave me."

Then God bless drunk friends.

It took everything that I had not to flat out laugh the place down when her friend whispered-not whispered, "I have to leave, Lyric. How else are you going to jump him if I stay?"

Lyrical's gasp was Broadway-worthy, and I was actually surprised that she hadn't tipped over in her outrage. "Rena."

I stuck my hand out towards the blonde. "Hi, Rena," I said. "I'm Nixon. It's nice to meet you."

Rena took my hand in hers-completely ignoring an outraged Lyrical-and said, "Hi, Nixon. It's nice to meet you, too."

Lyrical reached out, then snatched Rena's hand out of mine. "Oh, my God," she screeched. "What kind of best friend are you, consorting with the enemy like that?"

The enemy?

With that, the odds of me scoring a date with Lyrical just plummeted. How was I going to tell my mom and dad that their dreams of an unplanned pregnancy and shotgun wedding were not going to come true?

"The enemy?" I asked, trying to see if it was the alcohol talking or just her crazy mind at work.

Lyrical turned towards me. "Well, of course, you're the enemy," she replied. "Why wouldn't you be?"

I stuck my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her, then just kissing the hell out of her. "Why would I be?"

"Uh, so...yeah, I'm just-"

"You leave, and you are dead to me, Rena," she threatened as she turned back to face her friend. "Dead. Like deader than dead. Not fake dead."

"What's fake dead?" I asked, because...how could I not?

Turning back to me, Lyrical narrowed her eyes. "Fake dead is when you fake being dead, Nixon. Jesus," she mumbled, exasperated.

I couldn't make heads or tails of that sentence, but I did know one thing.

She had used my first name.

It had also fallen off her lips like we'd known each other for years.

Before I could garner up a reply, Lyrical planted her hands on her hips as she glared up at me. "What are you doing here? Are you here to evict me?"

I had to admit, most of the things that she'd said since I'd met her had been full of surprises, but this was the biggest. I shook my head. "No," I answered. "Why would you think I'd evict you?"