Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Gross,” I said, climbing off of him, leaning over the side of the bed to fetch Dav’s shirt from the day before to throw on to rush to the bathroom.
“He might already be fucking,” he added as I yanked the shirt over my head.
“Were you? At fifteen?” I asked.
“Yep. You?”
“Sixteen,” I said, memories of a quick, underwhelming fuck against a brick wall in an alley. Not the most romantic cherry popping story, but then, I’d never been a romantic kind of girl. “Maybe I can sneak you out before he sees you,” I said, pressing my thighs together as I made my way to the bedroom door, peeking out.
“Ashamed of me, love?” he asked as he leaned down to fetch his pants off of the floor.
“It’s not like that,” I insisted. “I’ll be right back,” I added before rushing out into the hall.
By the time I came back out, Dav had fresh clothes waiting for me.
“Thanks,” I said, getting into them, then handing him back his shirt. “Come on. Try to be quiet,” I demanded, leading him out into the main area of the apartment.
“‘Morning, Dav,” Joel called, voice thick with sleep, but smile amused as he sat up on the couch.
“Kid,” Dav said, struggling to keep his lips in a straight line. “I was just here, ah, braiding Cinna’s hair,” he said, making Joel’s gaze slide to my wild bedhead.
“Good job,” he said, holding in a chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m not very good at it,” Dav agreed, the two of them sharing a look.
“You guys could at least pretend that we don’t all know what this is about,” I grumbled, making my way to the coffee pot. “You staying for a cup?” I asked, glancing back at Dav.
“I think I’ll save myself the instant ulcer this morning,” he said. “I’m gonna go home, shower, change, get some food. You let me know what we’re up to today.”
“Okay,” I agreed, watching him undo the locks, then make his way out.
Joel beat me to the door, sliding the locks back into place before heading to the bathroom.
“There’s toothbrushes in the drawer,” I called, wincing at how… motherly that sounded as I grabbed my phone, placing a quick order for breakfast to be delivered, and making a mental note to grab some shit to actually keep in my apartment, since Joel seemed to be permanently crashing here now.
Cereal, breakfast bars, easy shit for him to grab if he was hungry, since I wasn’t around much to order food.
What else would a teenager need?
Deodorant, I decided, thinking of the permanent stench that seemed to cling to kids that age, no matter how clean they seemed.
A pillow or two.
“You always get up this early?” Joel asked, coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair looking like he’d combed wet fingers through it to tame it down.
“No. But I usually don’t get home that early either,” I told him. “I ordered breakfast. You hanging here after school?” I asked.
He froze at that, likely feeling put on the spot.
“Maybe.”
“Okay. I just want to show you something,” I said, leading him over toward the cabinet under the TV, opening the second drawer, where I slid open the top of a box. “This is here,” I told him, gesturing down toward the gun. “I’m assuming you know enough about one to know how to aim and shoot.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s no safety. So don’t be stupid with it,” I told him. “It’s just for if you hear someone trying to come in and you don’t have a way out. There’s a fire escape out the bedroom window,” I told him. “So try for that before you go shooting people. I don’t know if I want to deal with two bodies this week.”
“Okay,” Joel said, nodding.
“But if you can’t get to the bedroom, you shoot and you don’t think twice about it. If it’s you against someone else, you always have to pick yourself.”
“Got it,” he agreed, suddenly looking a lot younger to me. I probably should have been telling him to go back to his place where he was, relatively, safe. But as a former kid who wanted an out, and hadn’t been offered one, I couldn’t rip it away from him now that he had it.
“Good. I’m gonna pick up a new door. That piece of shit could be kicked in by an eighty-year-old with a double knee replacement,” I said, shaking my head at it. “Maybe I’ll try to get that done tonight.”
“I can help,” Joel offered as he grabbed two mugs.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“My old man, he did construction. Before he jacked up his back and…” he trailed off.
I didn’t need help filling that in.
Workplace accidents to prescription pills to street drugs. It was a lot more common than people realized.
“I know some things,” he added, pouring two cups of coffee.