Douse (Book One: At the Edge of a Hurricane) Read Online Free PDF Page A

have to stretch your ear and crank your neck around this
tight tiny hallway to even skim the basics.
    Bishop
covers the entryway. I can't see who he speaks with.
    I
duck out of the hallway. This is something Piranha would do: stick her nose
someplace it's not wanted at all.
    Their
conversation finishes amicably—laughter roars from the front door to the
living room couches. I cast Bishop a perplexed expression as he struts back in.
    "Sorry
about that," he says. "Just had an old friend come check up on me. We
have plans later, or well, soon."
    "Ah!
Am I intruding? I shouldn't have overstayed."
    Bishop
grabs my shoulders and puts his forehead to mine. "You can overstay your
welcome anytime you want."
    "Good,"
I say, patting his cheek. "I like guys who let their girls whip
them."
    "Morning
sass?"
    "You
should see me in the afternoon."
    I
pull away from Bishop, but he reels me in, and we spin around for one last
kiss. The heat in his throat commingles with my own, and despite our slumber,
neither of us has bad breath. Or at least not much.
    "You're
up for meeting again sometime soon?"
    I
pinch his nose. "Sure. I'll text you though."
                                       
    "You
sound emasculating." Caddy hands me a dossier on one of our students. He
types furiously on his laptop as I read out the payment info and general stats.
"If I was straight—"
    "But
you like penis so you're not."
    "I
wouldn't enjoy that. If I was straight, I'd tell your ass, girl, get to the
damn curb.'"
    “What?
Because I'm a girl I can't be a little assertive."
    Caddy
bobs his head back and drains the last of his cappuccino. "You sound like
a man," he says.
    "Someone
has to wear the pants. Piranha's definitely not and you only do it part
time."
    "Is
that because I'm gay?"
    "Type,
damn it.”. To think that we once considered hiring more staff to help us
in our daily routine. Who would take our clowning seriously?
    We
had to stow ourselves once again in the back of Starbucks. Piranha did play the
Star Spangled Banner, and from what Caddy told me, it was the orchestra version
today.
    "She
could at least pick ones with decent singers. Did you know next week she's
thinking about switching to live performances? Are you ready for
aaaaaaaaa-nnnddddd theeeeeeeeee rrrrrrrrockkkkkkeeetttrsssss reeeeedddddddddd
glar-uuhuhhhHHHHHHH." The teenager couple adjacent to us glares.
"Sorry," Caddy says to them. "But fuck do singers like to play
off their vocal gymnastics at live shows."
    Besides
bitching about Piranha, Caddy takes the time to list out the phone numbers of
students I'm supposed to call. There are twenty of them.
    "This
is why sometimes Piranha should be on board more," I say. Caddy scoffs.
"She's crazy but helpful. Sometimes."
    "Okay,
Miss Man. Combined with you nobody will want anything to do with us."
    In
grade school other kids would make fun of my so-called mannish tendencies. I
did go through a super feminist phase, once, before my freshman year in
college. Now I'd like to think I'm balanced out and not a total champion of
women's rights but simply a human being pursuing interests. Aggressively.
    "You
don't think he'll be turned off, do you?"
    "Guys
like girls who are feminine. That's why being a macho lady is a niche
fetish."
    "I'm
always joking though. It's not like I'm serious about dominating him...unless
that's what he likes."
    Caddy
rifles through a pile of papers and hands another off to me. “If
you’re so forward, why don’t you ask?”
     “Maybe
that’ll happen. Next time I see him, I’ll ask.”
    “And
when’s that?”
    “I
told him I’d text him.”
    “ What? That’s totally outside normal protocol. Now he probably thinks you
don’t even like him. He’ll be blasting some other pussy out.”
    “Not
so.” I grab my phone. “I’ll shoot him a text right now.
Better yet, I’ll call.”
    “You
have balls, girl. Iron balls. Not even the guys I meet have those kinds of
balls.”
    I
ditch Caddy,