Page 9 of The Patron Saint of Timber Hollow

"I missed you too, snake bitch," I chortle, making Sam laugh again.

"Come on, I'm ready to stop being around so many people."

"Don't you need to wait for baggage?"

"Nope, I shipped almost everything," She replies, pulling me by the hand.

"You,my friend, traveled across the country with onlyonesuitcase? And it's only yourcarry-on?"I ask, horrified. "Who are you, and what have you done with my snake bitch?"

Sam laughs and says, "I'm pulling a page out of your book, okay? You'll just have to clothe me while we wait for my stuff."

"And house you and feed you. So you'll really be like my littlesnekfriend.Awww." I can't resist teasing her and making her laugh. I've really missed my best friend.

We quickly leave the airport, tossing her suitcase into my car. On the way out, I wondered if there would be enough room in here for her things. One single carry-on in my back seat feels like the antithesis of Sam. "Will you swallow my car whole if I don't feed you immediately? If you can wait, it's taco night at the bar," I ask while pushing the ignition. The sound of the Stingray starting up willneverget old.

"Is it going to bea goodtaco night? Or like.. white people tacos?"

"Cook would never," I say, gasping, laying a hand on my chest.

"In that case, I can wait."

As soon as she replies, I put the car in gear, and pull out of the space.

"Excellent. Do you want to shower or anything?" I ask, needing to know which direction to turn in in a few minutes. Straight back to the Hollow or toward the bar.

"Nah, let's go see you work," Sam smirks, and I laugh.

"I don't know that you can call slapping people who get shotswork,but alright," I agree.

"I think it should count."

"How would I even list that on a resume? Customer service doesn't seem to cut it."

"Slap-ologist? Like a mixologist, but… Slap-ier."

"Oh, that's good," I agree. "I like your haircut and nose ring, by the way. When did you do that?"

"A couple days ago, when I shipped everything. Decided that I wanted to start fresh."

"Slay. It's serving cunt. Like the good way." Her mid-length honey blonde hair had been pretty, but this short bob, white hair situation was really doing something for her. It made the delicate features of her face stand out, her heavy-lidded eyes, the tan of her skin that much more vibrant.

Sam has always been gorgeous. Do a double take as you're walking down the road- stunning, but this new hairreallydoes it for me.

Sam examines her white manicure for a moment and then says, "I know; I love it."

"Itreallydoes it for me. If I wasn't obsessed with this wolf, I know I'd tap that ass."

Sam rears her head back and lets out a loud cackle, making me laugh along with her. "Fuck, I missed you."

"Me too, me too." I agree, pulling into the parking lot of Coyote Bills, entirely too soon. Obviously, we'll be able to talk at the bar, but not about the important stuff.Andif she's taking a page out of my book, then who knows what she's hiding behind that broad smile on her face.

5

Coyote Bills

Bringing Sam into the bar feels like I'm walking through a dream. Everything is probably going to be fine, but anxiety ripples up anyway. Thankfully, it's not Fire Night, but the air is thick and syrupy. Humidity clogs my pores, weighing down my hair.

"You're going to fucking die in here tonight," I say over my shoulder to Sam. I hadn't even thought about it while we were on our way over. With her sweater dress, she's going to overheat. I should have told her to change. "It's almost always lava-hot here, but the humidity is a bonus."