Too Late

“I left Jesus-on-a-stick near the window. I need Him.”

What the fuck?

“Jesus-on-a-stick, do you want to go on a little road trip with me tomorrow? I know a girl who has some serious repenting to do.”

. Hell, last night I took it so far that I created a Pinterest account. That’s right. Asa Jackson has a Pinterest account. I pinned recipes and inspirational quotes for three hours straight just to confuse them.

The whore is fucking smiling, and it’s all I see.

She says, “I’ll love you forever, Luke. Only you.”

She’s whispering when she looks me dead in the eyes and says, “And every year on April twentieth, my beautiful family will be celebrating your birthday with a big, huge, delicious coconut cake, you sorry fucking bastard.”

I breathe in through my nose and out my mouth, wondering why it’s just now hitting me.She didn’t say harder. She fucking said Carter! “Fucking whore!”

Ryan’s story makes me smile for the first time in forever. “That’s the sexiest thing about him,” I whisper. “His compassion.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know...he’s got a great ass.”

“Yes I do!” she screams. “I love him, I hate you, I love him, I fucking hate you!”

Karma’s a bitch, Asa Jackson