Page 62 of The Surprise Play

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it!” He points at me.

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. Now do it.”

Clamping my lips together, I shake my head until I feel like it’s gonna come right off my neck.

Gently taking my face between his large hands, he stills me and starts chanting, “Do it. Do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it?—”

“Okay, stop.” I raise my hand to shut him up.

He lets go of my face and stands tall, crossing his arms and giving me an emphatic look. “No. The words areshut the fuck up.”

I flush hot, my insides writhing as I look around to make sure we’re alone before glancing up with a pained frown and whispering, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry, what was that?” He touches the side of his ear and makes a show of straining to hear me.

I fight a grin, biting my lips together yet again before finally saying, “Shut the fuck up?”

“Is that a question? Or are you telling me what I need to do?”

I wince.

“Come on, say it with some balls, Satch.”

“I don’t have balls.”

“Girl, you can have the biggest cojones in the world if you want to. Now show me some power!” He beats his chest like a gorilla. “I want volume. I want you to shout that shit!”

I flinch and give the person walking toward us a polite, awkward smile.

He eyes Wily like he’s a crazy person before spinning on his heel and heading back the way he came.

Wily’s oblivious, going on about decibels before taking my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Say it with some conviction.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. He brushes his thumb over the spot again before pointing at the ground. “We’re not leaving this spot until you do.”

“Wily, I’ve got class.”

“Then you better get on with it, becausewe’re notleaving this spot until you do.”

It’s impossible to argue with the guy, especially when he dips his hip and pretends to flick a lock of hair over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I grip my bag straps with a confused frown.

He struts away from me like a catwalk model, then spins and strikes a girlish pose. To say he looks hilarious is an understatement.

“I’m giving you motivation by pretending to be that bitchy little viper.” Putting his hand on his hip, he checks his nails like a sorority girl fromLegally Blondeor something, then gives me a scathing look. “Got something to say to me?” His girly voice is too funny, and I can’t help bursting out in laughter.

“Say it, Satch. I want you to say it.”

I cover my mouth to try and control my giggles and finally manage, “Shut the fuck up?”

“That’s another question,” he singsongs in his high, girly voice. “Now what did you just say to me, hippo girl?”