Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
I, on the other hand, have complicated connections to the Voodoo.
But those connections might be about to get less complicated, once I’m fired Monday morning…
I can’t believe Dean didn’t tell me as soon as the emergency leave was approved. Hell, I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he was asking for emergency leave in the first place. I thought we were being honest with each other, at least about everything except how desperate we still are to get naked together.
I feel so betrayed.
So sad and angry and just…thrown.
So thrown, that when Emilio asks if I want to cut out early, I take him up on it. I usually try to stay on as long as possible on Saturdays—both for the tips and the chance to listen to the late-night bands—but tonight, I’m…itchy. Itchy like the skin beneath a cast, deep down in a place no pencil can reach.
And there’s only one cure for a case of the itches like that…
On my way out to the parking lot, to the Civic that Dean insisted I drive on the weekends, too, I text my hacker friend, Plato—Hey, I know it’s last-minute, and I’ve been MIA since last weekend, but would you be up for a hunt tonight? I got off work early, and I’m too wired to sleep.
My terminally online friend texts back right away—Hell yes! I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been dying to dive back into this. I think we’re close. We’re going to catch this son of a bitch soon, babe, I can feel it.
I’m not sure I share his certainty, but I love the enthusiasm. Amazing! Should I swing by your place?
Plato: No can do. My parents are hosting their swingers’ group this weekend. The house is full of old people fucking. I’ve been hiding in the pool house with my noise-canceling headphones, but I can still hear them. Pretty sure I’d be scarred for life, if I weren’t already scarred from growing up with perverts for parents.
Clover: Gross. No offense, but gross.
Plato: No offense taken. It IS gross. To be fair, as an asexual human, I find all fucking gross, but the fact that it’s my parents and their super old friends makes it especially gnarly.
Clover: You have to move out. ASAP.
Plato: Can’t.
Clover: Why not? You’re twenty-one and have a great job.
Plato: I like saving money too much. If I keep investing what I would be spending on rent, I’ll be a millionaire by the time I’m twenty-eight.
Clover: Wow. Go, you. That’s incredible! Congratulations!
Plato: Thanks, but I don’t deserve congrats. I’m just a nepo baby.
Clover: But a nepo baby with the sense to invest and save. That’s impressive. And you go out of your way to help the less fortunate, which is also pretty special. I certainly appreciate it. I never could have followed this trail alone.
Plato: My pleasure. Seriously. I love this kind of stuff. And I’d love to host you here for another hacker sleepover, but these perverts are going to be at it all night. These things always run late. But I could come to yours. Where’s your new place again?
I hesitate for a beat.
Dean assured me it was fine for me to have guests over to my apartment, as long as they’re people who are safe to know where he and the kids live, but I haven’t taken him up on the offer yet. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time for socializing, and my best friends have a newborn at home. It’s way easier for me to pop over to visit Blue and Beatrice at their place than for them to pack up Charlie and all her baby things to visit me.
But I’ve known Plato for over a year, and I know he’s a great guy. We met at a digital music mastering workshop, bonded over our love of 1990s techno and vintage fashion, and became instant flea market, bargain-hunting friends.
It wasn’t until after the accident, when he saw how deeply depressed I was about the lack of justice being served, that I found out he’s also a master-level hacker. I’m sure Dean wouldn’t be thrilled to learn that I’m hunting down the man who hit my car on the dark web, but it’s not like we’ll be using his IP address—Plato has his own, deeply protected hotspot—and I’m not thrilled about Dean’s behavior right now, either.
Looks like I won’t be his problem for much longer, anyway…
Besides, it’s already nearly eleven. By the time Plato gets to my place, it will be midnight, and Dean and the girls will have been asleep for hours. Dean will never even know I had a friend over unless Plato decides to sleep over, and if he does, well…Dean can just deal with it.
And if he thinks I’m hooking up with my completely asexual, but undeniably gorgeous friend, that’s not my problem, either. In fact, it might be just the petty revenge this situation demands!