Timmy returns a while later, the sound of the door beeping sending a jolt of irritation through my body. Every time that door opens, it feels like the universe itself is mocking me—it’s become a giant trigger that causes a visceral reaction almost as intense as Timmy himself.
He’s holding a handful of grapes, a smug grin plastered on his face.
“You’re so abusive,” Timmy sneers. “And all you do is relive things from the past.”
“That’s fair about reliving things,” I say, suddenly guilty for bringing up Groupie McDesperate. After all, to my knowledge he’s not talking with her. It’smyproblem that the whole situation with her is continuing to bug me. “But it’s because I’ve never really had closure from those things.”
“I haven’t been talking to that dumb bitch,” he says.
He comes over from the kitchen, grapes in hand, and starts trying to feed them to me. “Here,” he says, shoving one toward my mouth.
I try to push his hand away, but he insists, practically forcing it past my lips. I sigh and eat a couple, if only to get him to leave me alone.
Me:
He’s bringing me grapes.
Alice:
You’re Aphrodite now!
Me:
Apparently. She always was my favorite goddess.
Alice:
Understandable, you’re gorgeous.
Me:
Aweeee! Right back at you.
I always got called ugly growing up, and it leaves a scar, ya know.
I need to let a bunch of shit go. Working on it.
Kiwis are dicks, especially to redheads.
Alice:
Everyone is, but I think it’s because everyone secretly wants red hair.
Timmy returns to the kitchen and makes himself a cooked breakfast.
He doesn’t offer me anything.
“So I cooked you lunch and dinner yesterday and you’re not offering me food?” I frown.
“I brushed your hair,” he says, as if that’s somehow relevant.
“You brushed my hair twice, and I don’t need you to brush my hair.Youwanted to do it,” I reply. “And what does that have to do with cooking breakfast for yourself?”
He glares at me. “You’re so problematic. You didn’t even want the grapes I gave you, so shut the fuck up.” He grabs the remaining grapes from the nightstand and shuffles back to the kitchen, leaving me momentarily in peace.
Alice:
He’s wild.