CHAPTER FOUR: RISHA
“Y
ou’re going
on a date with your mom’s boyfriend-“ Choking out a loud, gagging sound, Cynthia burst into hysterical laughter as I stomped through the front door of our home. “Oh- oh God- my ches-s-t… I’m… I’m gunna die- die…”
“It’s not a date, Cynthia. Please- that’s disgusting. It’s just drinks on a Friday. Nothing special.” Tossing my coat over the couch, I went straight to the refrigerator to yank open the door and pull out a can of seltzer water. My chest burned from embarrassment, and Cynthia’s yowling only grew louder at my denial. I couldn’t even enjoy the fizz of my drink against my lips while she stumbled into a chair near the kitchen table.
“Drinks on Friday is code for ‘we’re gunna bang because I don’t have to work the next day’, Risha. And I bet he’s
