D-R-U-N-K is the state Theresa's at on Thursday.
And it's only 10:30.
Well, she could hardly say no to the preeeetty shots of tequila that appeared in front of her consecutively.
Oh well, it's not like she cares, it's pool night after all!
–
Not only hasn't he heard back from her, he is also feeling increasingly mortified for the message he left on her answering machine. All he can think is about the cab door she slammed on his face, a month ago.
He might not have used the best words, in hindsight. Too late now.
Where the hell, are they heading to?
Jake's mate promised him they would only be out until midnight. Yeah right, as if he's meant to trust that promise. The bar he can see from the cab's window does not fit the criteria of 'decent' he was promised.
Fucking hell, he's in for a long night.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Outlets | ✓
Short StoryIn which a hooker falls in love with her client's roommate. snippet: "She'd wanted to slap him. Right across that goddamn handsome face. But then again, he is right. Isn't he? She is actually a whore. Isn't she?"
