The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers Book 1)

November 10th, Friday, 3:04 p.m.

THE SIX DICKS WITH STICKS

GAGE: H, what are we doing for your birthday?

HAYES: Nothing.

BRISTOL: You seriously don’t want to do anything?

HAYES: No. And if you cumguzzlers try to throw something, I’ll shove my foot so far up each of your asses that you’ll be able to taste me in your mouths.

GAGE: Jesus.

FULTON: Come on, you old grump. Can’t we at least eat some cake and binge Westworld or something?

KIT: Yeah, Hayesy. You only turn twenty-four once.

HAYES: Never call me that. Ever.

FULTON: TWENTY-FOUR? HOLY SHIT, YOU’RE OLD.

GAGE: Dude! That’s so rude. Don’t say that.

BRISTOL: Just a small get together, H. It won’t kill you.

HAYES: No, no, and no. I don’t like celebrating my birthday.

CASEN: It’s 5-1, buddy. You’ve been outvoted.

HAYES: Yeah, but since I’m the birthday boy, my vote counts for more. So it’s actually like 5-15.

KIT: How?

HAYES: For every one of your votes, my vote counts for three times that.

KIT: In what fucked-up universe?

HAYES: This one, bitch.

CASEN: Josie says you’re being ridiculous.

FULTON: Ooh, tell Josie I said hi!

CASEN: She says hi back.

GAGE: Ugh, fine. We won’t do anything for you, you ungrateful geezer.

HAYES: Good. Thank you. Now stop bugging me about it.

Gage removed Hayes from the conversation

November 10th, Friday, 3:15 p.m.

GAGE: So who’s ordering the stripper?