"I'm Telling..." fiction, continued....

[chicating]

She sighed in a way that I recognized as her most patient tone. As a thought it was good, but in practice I usually hated it. “Did you get another one?”

“No,” I said, and telling the truth felt more like lying and I started to sweat. “Actually…”

“You don’t have to go off on a big rant today…I don’t think I have the energy to listen. Throw it out and don’t let it bother you…it’s a stupid bureaucracy that doesn’t know the first fucking thing about you, so don’t let it affect you.” Clearly, more easily said than done, even if the person in me who went off about social issues felt as distant as the little girl in the yellow dress in my first-grade school picture(in the early grades they left our chairs out, thinking they were being nice, but it has always messed with my head, even more when people wish they could still try.)

“MaybeIshouldhavetakenthemuponit.” I said, gabbling from nerves and from the undeniable fact that, even if I raced to the clinic, my sentimental wishing on stars to change was about to come true in the weirdest way possible.

“I didn’t catch that…”

“It’s kind of eugenic,” I said, out of habit, while wiping my sweaty palm on my pants. “But I should have taken them up on it.”

“Oh, Is Alex back?” Everyone liked my first better than they liked me. Including me, for a long time. Thar wasn’t true now. Was it?

“Nope. Still in Virginia."

“ It wasn’t that…Sean that wanted those pictures. I’m glad you were too smart to send those. All of those actresses will regret that one day.”
“Yep. Way too smart.” This lie didn’t upset me at all.