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may 11th, 2026
7:35 pm

SUNDAY WAS COMPLETELY A PIECE of shit

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SUNDAY WAS COMPLETELY A PIECE of shit.

Who else kissed an engaged man in the home that he shared with his fiancee?

Only pieces of shit.

She had never felt so guilty in her life.

Brandon had only called her once, requesting for them to talk but she didn't trust herself to be around him.

When they were dating, he had been a type of near heroin for her and it was clear that the attraction between them was too much for her.

She had to avoid him, if not just for her sake then for his and his fiancee's.

The last thing that she wanted to do was ruin any happiness that Brandon could obtain for himself.

Sunday tapped her fingers against the half oval shaped connected desk in her law school classroom, looking around at all of her classmates.

Now that Jeanette and Rafael were in their own law concentrations, Sunday was left to be the only person in color in the majority of her law classes.

Although class was coming to an end, her international crime professor droned on and on about which countries were just under the United States when it came to crime.

The professor abruptly stopped talking when she looked up at the humongous clock and then sighed, "We'll pick this up next class. Don't forget to read pages 302 to 310 in your textbook. It's needed for the quiz."

Sunday closed her textbook and then slid it into her bag to rise and exit the classroom along with her classmates.

The sun was beginning to set outside, painting the sky a beautiful golden and tangerine, pink mixture, the stars starting to brighten.

Sunday clutched her bag, carefully looking around her surroundings to determine that no one was following her out of the building and into the parking lot.

The D.C metro was still a few blocks from campus and she wanted to at least reach the steps before it was dark.

"Ugh. Are you fucking kidding me?" A masculine yell made Sunday pause in her trot and direct her eyes towards where the sound had come from.

A tall blonde man was across the street, hovering over the open hood of a black 2009 Ford Mustang, a look of frustration on his face.

Sunday raised an eyebrow as she watched the man thump his fist against the side of the car and then press it against his chest, clearly in pain.

Sunday had seen enough.

The man needed some help before he continued to injure himself or worse, the car.

Sunday looked both ways before jogging over to where he was standing, "Um, I couldn't help but notice that you were beating up your car. Do you need some help?"

The man glanced at her, "Um... Sure. I guess that wouldn't hurt."

Sunday dropped her bag onto the dark road and leaned over a little to properly examine the engine for a minute before standing straight up, "Your transmission is slipping. It would be crazy for you to have a wrench, right?"

The man smiled, showing off a row of perfect white teeth, "It's not crazy at all actually."

The man went to the trunk, popped it, visibly searched around for something and then came back over with a slightly dusty silver wrench in his dominant hand.

Sunday easily took the tool from his hand and began to tighten the parts of the transmission.

Once she was finished, Sunday stood straight up and handed the tool back to him, "You should look at getting your oil changed too."

The man blinked and then glanced at the engine and then back at Sunday, "Oh, uh. Wow. How did you...? I've been staring at this for over an hour and you understood in less than a minute."

Sunday shrugged, "I grew up around cars."

She glanced at the now departed sun and around at blue-black colored sky, "Uh, I should get going. Good luck with your car and everything."

Sunday began to walk away but the man jogged up to walk by her side a little, "There's gotta be some way that I can repay you."

Sunday chuckled a little, "There's no need. I'm just being a good samaritan. You looked like you were in trouble."

The man's smile deepened, "Well thank you. I appreciate it. Are you sure there isn't anywhere I could drop you off at?"

Sunday gave him a hesitant look and the man put his hands in a defensive stance and laughed a little, an overly carefree sound, "I'm not a creep, I swear. Just trying to be a good samaritan like you were."

Sunday chuckled a little bit, "You know that saying that you're not a creep doesn't make not one, right?"

The man placed his hand over his chest, fake offended, "Ouch. Well, I had to try."

Sunday glanced around at the dark sky, mentally calculated that the nearest metro station was at least four blocks away still and then sighed, "Actually, a ride home wouldn't hurt if it's too much to ask."

She knew she was a bit crazy for asking a stranger, but she had upped the weapon on her from mace to a taser and Sunday was more than prepared in case he tried to do something wicked.

The man stuck his hand out, "Aaron."

Sunday shook his hand, "Sunday, but I prefer Sunny."

"It's very nice to meet to you, Sunny." Aaron retorted.

Aaron was a very attractive man so Sunday allowed herself to smile back.

"It's nice to meet you too, Aaron."

NOTE FROM KY
new character!
vote & comment, porfa!

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