NINE TIME MACHINES: Do you want to undo your entire life on planet earth?

CHAPTER 44

Pete doesn't have anything new for me so I mosey on over to Desiree's page. All her friends – mostly men and freshly-baked fake females – moon over her latest pics. I must admit, if to no one else, at least to myself. Pete really picked a fine one. Better than logging on to snoop and seeing some monstrousity hanging on to his arm, right? I'd never want to see someone worse than me with my ex; makes me cringe to think that my picture might sit next to theirs if he started a relationship album or something. But what's even worse is for the totally levelled-up woman to outshine me in territory I discovered, roadways I dug out. And that's what Pete's doing to me right now. I feel like I tore my own dog collar off and left me for dead.

That doesn't stop me from reading her most recent status though. It's as if Desiree Mollete has added a new friend without even receiving the friend request. Simmer down. Things could be worse. I'd rather choose a passive stalker than an aggressive one any day. At this point, all I'm doing is stewing over a wicked pot of gravy other women are smelling miles off. There's no evidence that Pete or Desiree have tasted anything. Yeah; jinxed it! I just had to say something, didn't I? The moment I spoke it jumped right out at me, tongue out and fingers waving in its ears. It's the status no one wants to read from the person who's sniffing around their pot of gravy. I read it all bourgeois, the way I expect that Desiree would.

"Can't wait until our big day finally comes."

And to make matters worse Pete clicked like. What freaking big day is this heifer talking about? Are they planning to have sex? Is this stupid girl pregnant? Man, if she's pregnant, I swear. I swear on Lily's and Ebony's graves that I'll wreak the most unspeakable vengeance ever eked out by a woman scorned. God, please don't let Desiree be pregnant. Pete's all I have to live for.