“YOU PUT SLIME IN MY HAIR?!”
“Your hair was in my lunch. I thought we were exchanging things.”
“THESE EXTENSIONS COST EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS!”
“Yes, dear. You’ve mentioned that. I’d keep my hands away from
it.”
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”
“I thought we were exchanging things.”
The slime didn’t tear. It stretched, a long glittering rope from her head to her hand.
Her acrylic nails sank in like forks into spaghetti.
When she pulled free, pink slime stretched between her fingers like melted cheese.
She wiped it on her jeans, then the armrest, leaving some on both.
She shook her head, and a sticky strand slapped her cheek and stayed there.
I felt like I’d taught her a lesson, but I had no
idea what it might cost me once we landed.
Her acrylic nails sank in like forks into spaghetti.
She grabbed at it with the hand holding the phone. The phone stuck to her palm.