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interesting story. It was hard to imagine someone so young having so much responsibility. I’d assumed he’d been heading to the tattoo parlor, considering he hadn’t carried a bag of laundry to wash and I’d never seen him in the store. How wrong I had been. I had so many questions floating around in my head, but it just didn’t feel right to press Mrs. Foster for more answers. Of all the things I was most curious about, was why a young man would want to purchase a laundromat. I mean, he could have purchased a strip club, which would have fit right in with the tattoo parlor crowd next door. Surely, that was a better option considering. Range certainly was a mystery I wouldn’t mind solving, but it was just going to have to wait. I hadn’t felt excited about a man in so long, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Right at that moment I felt like a child receiving her first Barbie doll. I wanted to play with it, take its clothes off, see how far I could bend its legs back before they snapped. Range created an excitement I thought was long gone, considering I hadn’t been on a date in ages. Maybe boring Clover wasn’t immune after all and this was just what I needed to get myself back in the game.
     

CHAPTER 8
    Range
     
    Holy shit, what a long fucking day in the yard. I couldn’t wait to get to the house so I could wash this grime off my body. Of course, I was never as dirty as I felt, but I always ended up scrubbing my skin like I spent the day hauling bags of dog shit around.
    As soon as I hit the door, I spotted Maxwell at the kitchen stove with a potholder in one hand and a frying pan in the other, cooking what looked like to be eggs. He had his back to me, but I was sure he’d heard me come inside, which was confirmed when he turned around and gave me the evil eye.
    “I hear you gave Marci shit again today. What’s your problem with her anyway? It’s not like you didn’t fuck her first. Or maybe that is the problem? You want her again? You know I don’t mind sharing.”
    I was going to choke the shit out of Drama for running his fucking mouth. Max knew I hated that bitch ‘cause she was a skanky whore and nothing else. I didn’t care if he fucked her here. It was as much his house as it was the rest of ours, but this topic was getting old. He knew why I’d fucked her that one time during high school, and he certainly had no room to judge me for my decisions.
    “Look, Max, we’ve had this discussion before. I wouldn’t fuck that bitch again with someone else’s dick. If that’s what you like, then by all means, do her. But don’t expect me to treat her any other way than like the cunt she is.”
    Max let out a heavy sigh and stared at me with understanding in his eyes. He knew not to push this issue any further, and like with most things he was probably saying ‘fuck it’ in his head.
    “Yeah, ok, man. I understand. I just needed a quick fuck, and you know Marci will let me do whatever I want to her and never complains. If she weren’t such a trick-ass bitch, she would be the prefect Mrs. Maxwell O’Neill.”
    “Yeah, right. Like your ass is ever getting married. First, you would have to stop all of your extracurricular activities you got going on. I’m sure your future wife wouldn’t appreciate some of the shit you’re into.”
    “Yeah, well, fuck it. Go take your ass to the shower, you primping bitch. And don’t forget to wash behind your ears.”
    Max gave me a quick fist bump, and I made my way upstairs to my bedroom, ripping my clothes off with each step. I turned on the hot water without bothering to check the temperature, since scalding was always what I aimed for. I stepped under the hot spray and immediately felt the relief I’d been looking for. Maxwell and Drama were my very best friends and I hated fighting with them over trivial bullshit. We all had our demons we were trying to fight. Some were harder than others. I just couldn’t help but think that when it came to