Calm, calm… just keep calm.
He’s an i***t and you’re too good for him. He had s*x with strawberry f*****g shortcake last night.
I hear the car drive up the driveway, and I run to the window. Oh no.
They’re here.
I run to the laundry and start pulling the jerseys out of the dryer at double speed when something falls on the floor. Huh? I glance down and see a white thing. What’s that? I pick it up and see that it’s a very hot number seven.
My eyes widen.
I pull a jersey out of the dryer to see the number on the back of it is melting and hanging off.
Oh no.
What the hell?
I scramble through the jerseys. Sure enough, all of the numbers on the back are either completely fallen off or are half hanging off.
“Brelly!” Sammy calls from the kitchen.
I put my hands over my mouth. What the
