“The waitress scuttles away, and I make a shooing motion at the old couple who’re still glaring. “Don’t you have something to better to work on?” I hiss. “Like golfing or eating prunes or dying?” The old lady looks shocked. “Okay, sorry, not dying. But seriously, prunes are good for you.”

“You’re seventeen! Why do I have to keep reminding you of that? There are soooo many women you haven’t even met yet! Don’t act like you’re tired of the puss-puss, no guy is ever tired of the puss-puss.”

“You like it. Knowing things about people. It makes you feel powerful.”

“Hairy monkeyballs!” I hiss. “Dogshit on a stick! Puke pancakes!” A head pokes in. Wren, green eyes smiling, walks over to my bed.“I knew you were awake. Who else spews such original and captivating swears?”

“The waitress scuttles away, and I make a shooing motion at the old couple who’re still glaring. “Don’t you have something to better to work on?” I hiss. “Like golfing or eating prunes or dying?” The old lady looks shocked. “Okay, sorry, not dying. But seriously, prunes are good for you.”

“How did you find me? If you hacked into the Club’s computer to look up my appointments - "“Whoa, I think you overestimate me, shitlord. Last time I checked all I did was be in the wrong place at the right time. I saw you and had to - ”“Stalk me.”“ - delicately approach you. In a sideways manner. From behind. Without being seen at all. For ten minutes.”

“I would love to slap you right now, but I’m currently wielding a nine pound ball and I’m afraid that would be called murder.”