We didn’t rush to untangle. There were smears of fake blood across our sheets, a smudged imprint of my face on the pillowcase. Nicole’s skin was still powdered white and the rouge apples of her cheeks were a mess, but not even day-old clown make-up could diminish her. We kissed. “All right,” she said, meaning enough. I moved closer, pressed my lips against her again, and she laughed. “All right! You’re going to be late, and you’re hideous.” “We’ve got time.” I writhed around Nicole like the vines on the old Annex houses. “No, we don’t. As if your sister needs another reason to dislike me.” Nicole pressed her hands into my face, kissed me once firmly, and rose from the bed. “She likes you just fine,” I said. She stopped at the door of our bedroom, blotches of make-up and artificial gore dappled across her bare back and smooth legs. She turned her head to look at me, narrowed eyes, smile playing across her lips. It was an invitation. I freed myself from the sheets and followed her into the shower.
What do You think about Three Years With The Rat (2016)?
