Screwmates by Kayti McGee

Author:Kayti McGee [McGee, Kayti]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

Nine

Swapped shifts tonight and signed us up for a class at the Culinary Center, I texted. Texted. I texted. I had Hot Marc’s phone number, and I was texting him.

Texting was an exciting new development in our pseudo-relationship. I fervently hoped we could graduate to sexting soon, but for now, this was exciting. I waited, staring at the phone, touching the screen every time it began to dim, until I saw the little wiggly dots that meant he was texting (or sexting?) back.

The dots disappeared. I waited a little longer. The dots reappeared. I stared. They wiggled. I stared. They disappeared.

Half an hour had disappeared as well. So had half my battery. I sighed, and plugged my phone in, promising myself I’d be cool. It was just that tonight was going to be my first shot at a full-on seduction, and I was certain I had all my ducks in a row. All except for the one that was him. So I needed that confirmation. Soon.

To distract myself, I pulled out my new favorite sketchpad. The one that I’d divided up all neat into variously sized panels. The one I was drawing my sitcomic in. The Screwmates Sketchbook.

Lest you think I was going all Chasing Amy here, the comic was still half fictional. Fanfiction of my own life, even. For example, the characters in the comic had been having torrid sex for some time now. Torrid, multiorgasmic sex. They had mastered, on the first try, the upside-down position from the sex store. Comic Madison (Maddy) was much bendier than real-life Madison.

Lest you think I was going all pornographic here, the sex was still off-page. It was just discussed in great detail during Maddy’s weekly coffee dates with Liza, Crimson, and Eva.

Total fiction.

Weirdly, though, it was getting a hell of a response online. Basically every time I opened my browser to upload another page, there were a thousand new followers. Crazy. Pants.

I hadn’t exactly told anyone about it, because I wasn’t sure it was real. Plus it just seemed like a really awkward convo to have, like “hey ladies, how’s life cause I think I might be internet famous now but I can’t find a statistic on how many likes you need to qualify”. No. I was not going to be that girl.

The girl I was going to be was casually sketching, inking over the best lines, erasing the pencil marks, and not at all shooting mental laser beams at my phone. Finally, it dinged.

Okay.

Whaaaaat. I had waited the better part of an hour for that?! After all that buildup. Overpromising and under-delivering had better not be his bedroom MO, I thought to myself.

When he finally got home, we put on some nice clothes and drove south to the Culinary Center in Overland Park, on the Kansas side of the city.

“Toto, we aren’t in Missouri anymore!” I said, in my best tremulous Judy Garland voice as we crossed the state line. He chuckled, but I could tell it was just out of politeness.

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