Page 72 of Cherry Picking

Briggs

bus is here. wheels up at nine

this is me texting before the flight. as discussed

Evie

look at that. a man of his word

how’s the messed up head?

Briggs

attached. yours?

Evie

debatable. someone kept me up until after midnight. had to drink another glass of plum wine after he left to clear my thoughts

Briggs

he sounds inconsiderate

Evie

he has his moments

Augie drops into the seat beside me, blatantly reading my screen. “What happened to your head?”

“Nothing,” I grumble, snatching my phone away. “Read your own texts.”

“Mine are boring.” He stretches his legs into the aisle, then laces his fingers behind his head. “You gonna tell me her name yet, or do I keep calling her the girl who’s working for your dad?”

“It’s Evie.”

“My favorite Pokémon. Hell yeah.”

“Different spelling,” I mutter.

“Still counts.”

I track the Strip through the glass, a long, neon-smeared fever dream of color sliding past as we move. I let the motion settle against the static in my head, just watching the lights blur.

Briggs

does this mean I’m back on your good side?

Evie

are you sure I even have one of those? tragically undead, remember? *vampire emoji*

A laugh catches in my throat, and Augie looks over immediately. “You seem better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, which is a relief.” He drops his head back against the vinyl. “Because I need an actual opinion, and you’re a total loss when you’re out of it.”

“An opinion on what?”