Samantha tapped a dark cherry heel on the hardwood with increasing impatience. The sound grated on my already excited nerves, but telling her to stop was out of the question.
As far as girlfriends go, she was exactly what I needed. Tall, muscular, and angry, always angry. It didn’t hurt that she could wrestle most men into submission, rendering girls all but helpless in her iron grip.
I shifted on our newly purchased couch, the cloth soft against my fingers. The 3rd one we’ve bought in the same number of years. That’s what happens when they struggle.
“Think she’ll show?” I venture to say.
“The little bitch better show up, her parents already sent the check to the school.”
“That fast?”
“Her parents are poor as shit. They know little Annabel isn’t smart enough for a scholarship, and the only talent the cunt has is dancing, and we all know how eager schools are to hand out money to that lot.”
I smiled. A dancer. Her only talent? Maybe now, but not for long.