Brad s Bitch
The phone rang. I pulled it from my jeans pocket and saw that it was Brad. Shit! I really didn't want a call from him right now. Maybe I should just ignore it. But somehow he always knew when I'd just ignored his calls. And then that was even worse.I answered it, thinking only fleetingly about "the speech" that I'd composed and honed over the years and knew now that I would never actually give. I don't know why I even thought of it anymore. Maybe it made me feel just a little bit in charge of...