Lost Creek Hollow Luck is my middle name

Every spoken word—every uttered syllable, every chirpy, obnoxiously upbeat, blinding vowel—was another hammered nail in his temple in a long growing headache.
 
It peaked when he asked, of all things, ‘Did a girl dump you?’
 
“What?” He snapped. And then—
 
“No.”
 
What the fuck did that even mean? What the fuck was that even supposed to mean? Why the fuck would he date a girl? Why the fuck would he date anyone?