1 ⭑ The Barbie to his Ken.

4.4K 248 576
                                    

"A girl can do what she wants."
Bad Reputation • Joan Jett.

One Year Later
December, 2011. NEW YORK.

"Cherry!"

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"Cherry!"

"Hey, there she is. What's cooking, good looking?"

"Goodmorning, boys!" I pull the burning cigarette butt from my lips, leaving a dark red lipstick stain on the tip. I toss it onto the ground, step over it with my heel and smile with a sweet wave and wink to the construction men I've passed by every morning for the past three months while they worked on the Thompson's tool shop.

Jerry and Joseph. I call them dumb and dumber.

"You two are out early, how's the wife, Jerry?"

I stare somewhere between them.

I still don't know which one is which.

I may have one, but my twin-dar fuckin' sucks. It doesn't help that they're both bald, short, and have identical scars on their foreheads from supposedly getting mauled by a vicious raccoon that they named Maurice.

Joe and Jerry have some wild stories.

Jerry makes his identity known by stepping off of the latter and taking off his hard hat. His head shines like a cue ball. He points at me with his paint-stained fingertips, "Kicking my fucking ass, I'll tell you what, if I don't divorce that crazy bitch before this year is over, I owe you a million bucks."

His heavy, heavy Brooklyn accent is something I'll never get tired of hearing. It warms me up like a glass of rum. It reminds me of Chicago. Home. Or at least where home used to be.

"Did her chihuahua shit in your boots again?"

"Diarrhea. Explosive fuckin' diarrhea." He punches his hand and turns in a frustrated circle, "I want that filthy mutt outta my house, but nah, she'd rather dress it up in barbie clothes and parade it around on her hip like it's our fucking firstborn. She's so stupid, I love her to death."

I laugh, walking backwards past the shop. I don't want to slow down and be late for work.

"How about you Joe? How are you?"

He stands by the ladder to hold it steady while Jerry climbs back on with a fresh bucket of paint, "Fantastic, honey. You look so too. You're looking better than ever! Nice boots. Real fancy."

"Flattery gets you everywhere with me, baby. But your wife will come after me again if she hears you talking sweet to me like that, so watch your mouth! Have a good day and don't fall!"

I blow them both a kiss and turn around in my step, pacing back down the street.

Their operation goes crashing down behind me and I roll my eyes when they start cursing up a storm.

Kiss, Kill Nirvana ⭑  PRETTY PUNK CHERRY BOOK IIWhere stories live. Discover now