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Wait…
I send a few periods in a row to bury the rest of the conversation so Clark won’t read what we’re saying.
.
.
.
What the fuck was that?
The score, Zaiah.
Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m feeling better?
I smile, shaking my head.So stubborn.
“What are you smiling about?” Clark asks.
I nearly jump out of my skin. I’d almost forgotten he was waiting. “Oh, Zaiah’s being…Zaiah.” I point to the phone like the evidence is all there, but when Clark looks over, I angle it out of the way.
Since I nursed you back to health all night, I know you’re fine. The score.
For the record, I think this is ridiculous.
.
.
.
.
5–2, sexy butt.
You ass.
I cover up the sexy butt and show my phone to Clark. “From a player himself.”
“Okay.” He sighs as he changes the score, not even realizing that I switched the order around. “Wonder if the rest of these are even right.”
“Dev should probably pay more attention. All of them could be wrong.”
He shudders, and I agree. We’re here to report the news, not give out misinformation.
My phone buzzes again.
How’s the flirting?
I flirt adequately, thank you.
Adequately? I can already tell this is going terribly.
That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t only nurse jocks back to health, I can flirt with the best of them.
“You sure do smile at your phone a lot.”
“I smile at you, too, if you would pay attention.”