The venom in his words makes me blink. By the end of his rant, he's grinning lazily, as if her very existence has become boring to him. He raises his cup and takes a loud, slow sip of his slushie, the obnoxious slurp a punctuation mark to her humiliation. Without even glancing her way again, he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling, dismissing her existence entirely.
Tasha scoffs, though her voice falters with a crack. "Whatever. Let me know when you're straight again. My number's still the same." She flips her ponytail over her shoulder like a weapon and struts off, heels clicking, her pride dragging behind her like a torn cape.
Mateo doesn't look up, but his lips curl into a wicked smile. "Oh, honey," he drawls, his voice dripping with pure, lethal condescension. "I deleted your number the day we broke up."
I almost choke on my own spit. Holy shit. The woman doesn't even glance back, but if she had, I'm pretty sure she'd have burst into flames.
