Status Updates From Fire Over Frost: A Short St...

“Doooooooffffuuuuuuussssss? Can I come out now? I’m ready for spawklas,”she says, with a broom between her legs, fireworks in hand, and about half of the makeup I own caked on her face.
“You’re definitely ready for something, Luna. I’m just not quite sure if it’s a pageant stage or a corner.”
I nudge Emmett’s arm and huff. “Emmett Fontaine! Don’t talk about my baby that way.

Why can't these people LAUGH? So sick of them "giggling" and "chuckling".

Hey, do you think I could talk to your mom?”
Luna stays silent for a moment, then shakes her head in the negative. “I don’t think she likes you vewy much, Doofus. You should go away. I think you make my Mommy sad.

Emmett!”I shout, making him turn back to me. I love him so much. Why can’t I say that? “Come back to me,”I blurt. “I want you to come back to me.”I shrug stupidly, a foolish smile playing on my lips. I wish I had more courage. “Okay, sweet Annie.”And then he shuts the door.

How can it be?” I smile as her eyes cloud over in question. “Five years crawled by without you— pure effing torture. One look at you, and it’s gone. One kiss, and you own me. How can that be?” ~ A day ago he banged the chick who name he can't remember...

I feel her pulling away. Instead of feeling what pulses between us, she’s dwelling on the situation. I don’t give a eff about semantics. I don’t care now, and I wouldn’t have cared then. I need her to plug back into us— I need her to feel what I already know.

But you said he was a doofus, Mommy. You said that he—”
“That’s enough, Luna,” Annie says.
“What else did Mommy say about me?”
“She said only a fool fowgets his shirt when it’s fweezing outside. You can’t even wememba to dwess yowself. Ha ha ha!”

Is it possible to love a little girl I’ve only seen once? And can I ever forgive her mother for keeping her from me for all these years? ~ Ever think she was ALREADY pregnant when she met/slept with you???? Maybe that's why she broke it off.

Polly gushed over her new homecoming dress … her high school homecoming dress. Seriously, I can’t make this sh!t up. My mother, Sue Ellen Fontaine, aka the prissy pedophile pusher. I won’t even get into the time she hillbillied up and delivered my distant cousin.

That’s no one, baby. He’s staying in the garage apartment for a bit, but he’ll be in and out of our lives before you know it.”
Sh!t … that stings.
“Three days, if I had to guess,” I spit back, knowing I hit my intended target when she stops cold, hovering over Luna in her seat.

What the eff was her name? Christy? Candy? Eh, what difference does it make? This is a ‘one and done’, anyway. I grab her wrists just as she starts to lower my zipper. Yes, I’m standing in the driveway shirtless and shameless, but even I have my limits. ~ Emmett

Annie always did bring out the extremes in all things. She was a tornado, swooping into my life and pulling me into her current. The ride was fleeting and intense, full of passion … and something else. At the time, I thought love, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Like all natural disasters, she spit me back onto the dirt, my maimed heart lying beside me, barely pumping.

I bolted through the sliding doors into the crisp, cold December air, crumpled note and fruit cake in hand. My attending physician’s wife fancies herself a baker. I’d say she’s more of a mason, because the cake could double as a damn brick.