Page 32 of Not Like The Other Girls

The only thing worse than that is having jail time for life because she didn't stop her man from stealing public property.

And she is totally going to be jailed alone. Poor, young Lily Looney Loofah, spending the remaining years of her short life in solitary confinement since her momma is too broke to bail her. Every, on the other hand, the true wrongdoer, is going to get his ass bailed out before his luxury Italian loafers even step inside the grimy prison cell.

Thanks to his papa dearest’s infinite flow of cash.

“No more than you do, stealing this damn car,” she finally answers after her voluntary silence.

Every sighs like a martyred love interest, tired of the whole world. “I had no choice, sugartits. Those mice were gonna tear us up bit by bit, tooth by tooth, hair by hair, and whatever villains do if they got the chance.”

“You’re so poetic, Every,” Lily says fondly, changing the subject along with her suddenly flipped mood.

Mercury poisoning, the doctor once diagnosed.

Her man nods, the confidence overflowing from his body nearly flooding the whole small town. “That’s because I am, in fact, Shakespeare reborn. Now come shake my spear to kill the time.”

Then a drum sounds along with the villain theme song still playing in the background, a wholly dramatic effect to change the subject once again.

Actually, not a drum.

A fucking gun.

A sniper, the same black shade as the previously mentioned car, hangs from the driver’s mirror of said car. Lily stares, stunned as always, her heart racing past the human limits of cardio movements. But she’s a fairy, after all, so she lives. Then the front mirror clears, like the theatrical fog effect by an overzealous drama student. A man smiles through it, right to Lily’s boyfriend. Every blinks, his dark-light eyes going wide like cherry pies. Fuck.

He is hot.

So buff.

What?

“Motherfucker,” Every screams in a shrill, surprisingly girly voice. “That’s Fernando.”

“Who?” Lily Letty Lilac scrunches her nose like a jealous girlfriend.

“The mouse king, Fernando.”

“I didn’t know you were on first-name terms with him.”

“We’re not, trust me,” Every denies lamely. And truthfully, though.

He proceeds to pull the stunt of swerving the school bus up the footpath for no reason, nearly sending the stereotypical old granny standing nearby straight to heaven’s doors. The classic yellow school bus then runs over a newspaper stall, a forgotten condom, an advertisement kiosk, and some kid’s homework. Not in order.

Lily panics. “Every-darling, stop it, you bastard. I’m the main character, the Why-En; I can’t be dying from road rage.”

Every-darling pays her no attention, now heading the bus into a tunnel, the mouse king, decidedly called by his given name now, hot on his heels.

“Quit it,” Lily continues, “I’m too young and pretty to die. No, wait, actually, I don’t want to die at all, period. I’m not ready. My life’s just fucking started.”

“Shut the fuck up and focus on Fernando’s car,” Every counters, instantly earning a swat on his face.

Lily must have mistaken him for a fly.

Too bad.

“Shit, sorry, but does he still have his gun out, sugartits?” Every then asks.

“Of course.”

Lily studies the man chasing them now. Yeah, he’s generically hot, though in a homeless-guy-who’s-actually-a-nepo-baby sort of way, but he somehow reminds her of a half-eaten tub of ketchup-flavored popcorn. And that’s the extent of his description.