Read dissonance. (a Böhme novel) for Free Online Page A

other than that I have to say—What?! That’s all you got for me? Come on, you’re an intelligent woman, you should be able to say more than that in response to thoughts of me in a furry speedo .
    Me: Are you still out?
    Blake Lawson: Nice change of subject. Yes, I’m still out, why? Are you going to meet me for burgers? I’m fucking hungry.
    Me: Nope. I was just wondering why you were sending me messages about cartoon characters from the 1980s when you’re out with your friends. You should have better things to do with your time.
    I thought of the girl I saw cuddle up to him at the bar. He didn’t seem to want her around, but if there was a possibility there was a girlfriend in the picture, this was going to end fast. Damn it, it isn’t even beginning.
    Blake Lawson: There’s nothing I would rather do than spend time chatting with you about cartoons. Are you a fan?
    Me: Of course I am. Who’s not?
    Blake Lawson: The princesses seem to like the different variations of Prince Charming. I always liked those movies.
    Me: lol
    Blake Lawson: I’m joking by the way. I don’t want you to question my manliness. Don’t get me wrong, I love cartoons. But princess ones aren’t my thing. The majority of the princesses only want to meet a guy and be saved. I don’t think I could handle a chick just waiting to be taken care of.
    I pulled my lips in and nodded in agreement as I thought of what he said.
    Me: Took the words right out of my mouth. That’s why I called you Prince Charming. You were acting Neolithic.
    Blake Lawson: Ouch. (Big word)
    Me: It’s true. I had that covered. I could have kicked both their asses in less than two minutes.
    Blake Lawson: lol
    Me: Why lol? I’m serious.
    Blake Lawson: I know. My lol is my defense mechanism at the fear you instill in me. You’re kind of intimidating.
    Me: fear?
    Blake Lawson: Yeah. I wouldn’t want to meet you in a dark alley. ;)
    I scoffed at the screen. Patronizing asshole .
    Me: Fuck you dude. You’d be surprised at how well I can hold my own . Maybe you should think on that for a while.
    I logged out of my account and finished looking for viruses and other creepy crawlies on my mom’s computer. Fuck Blake. I didn’t need that shit. My first thought on him was right. I shouldn’t have let myself imagine he could possibly be someone worth spending time with.
    I began comparing his humor to my father’s. He reminded me of him in that one way. My dad teased my brother and me incessantly. It wasn’t to be mean, he only joked. Damn it, he was joking Brecken-get over yourself.
    My reaction was bitchy, but I learned over the years that when a guy mocks you or tries to be superior, it never stops. Half the time they are doing it not to flirt or tease, but because they have a need to remind you that they’re in control. Well, I wasn’t going to go that route with any man.
    I left the bedroom and walked out the front door with a simple wave good-bye to everyone.
    The old grade school on my mom’s street had become even more run down since the last time I saw it. Graffiti now covered its walls and one in particular caught my eye. Across the front door in bold, block lettering, someone had written, Why did you do it?
    This wasn’t the first question I saw written across town. Who was this person and why the fuck did they keep asking these questions that pissed me off? Why did I do what? Why did I do anything in my life? Why does anyone? We adapt. That’s what we do as humans and sometimes when we adapt, we hurt others. It builds up our own scabs and pushes us to move forward with our lives. I’m moving on, that’s why I did it.
    Or I did it out of my own fear. Fuck you and your questions. I rolled my eyes at my anger toward someone I never met.
    I’ve spent the last few years establishing myself as an independent person. Granted, to an outsider my life now seems average—I work at my mom’s bakery. I play in a cover band. That’s it. I don’t do much else. But