Page 247 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

and get eaten out by the sun

Yo this flow’s undone /

it’s not like I get credit —

for any /

of these /

songs

I’ma make you hate me too

make you run back —

to /

your /

moms—”

My palm slaps down on the fretboard.

I sit up straight.

“Moms,” I say,

light bulb buzzing in my head.

// 11:36 AM — UNION CITY, NJ //

“You know what’s crazy?”

Celie continues her rambling.

It’s not even noon yet. We're idling half a block down from Andrew's house, snow flurries floating all around. Union City’s a cold breath on the windshield, engine's running low, heater's blowing in our faces.

“Monday, I say, ‘come see DJ Crush with me’ and your bitch ass tells me ‘No, Celie, it’s the Fuckening. It’s Hell Week. I’m a selfish sex addict who refuses to leave my penthouse just so you can eye-fuck DJ Crush durin’ Let Me Lick It’. Fast-forward to today, your ass hits me up. All’a sudden the princess changes her mind and wants to leave her tower, and I drop everything. Now I’m out here in Union City, bein’ a better friend than you, just fuckin’ sayin’. But I’ma act like I ain’t mad about it. I’ma act⁠—”

I flip the visor mirror shut and turn to her, snapping her ramble in half with one sentence. “Hunter’s outta prison.”

Brakes from a city bus hiss in the distance.

Then all noise drops dead.

Her head swivels, eyes widening.

“Shut up. No the fuck he’s not.”

I rifle through my bag for lip balm, fingers steadily shaking again with the mention of his name.

With everything going on:

The Fuckening,

Hell Week,

withdrawal,