Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
A fissure of concern crossed Monroe’s face before it hardened like setting concrete. “The Harfords called the cops on you, Zepp. You cannot show up at their house.”
I felt the guys’ stares all lock on me. Wolf lobbed a carrot at me. “Why the hell was Max Harford calling the cops on you?”
My jaw tightened. I told the guys most things, but that shitshow was none of their business.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” A smug smile touched Monroe’s lips. “Zepp turned up at Max’s house last night, threatening him. He thought I was dating Max.”
I glared at her.
“You kick his ass?” Hendrix asked.
She crumpled her napkin in her palm, then dropped it to the table with a smartass grin. “No, he did not.”
“Should have crammed his balls up his asshole,” Hendrix said around a mouthful of noodles. “You have shit taste in dick, Red.”
“Oh my God.” She slapped her palms on the table, glaring at my brother. “I tutor him.”
He choked on his spaghetti, spitting half-chewed noodles all over Wolf’s tray. “You. Tutor?” Hendrix doubled over with laughter. “What do you tutor? Sex Ed?”
Bellamy and Wolf joined in, barking out laughs.
She pushed to her feet and started across the cafeteria, her tray still at the table. “You’re all pricks,” she called over her shoulder like that was some magnificent revelation.
“It’s just a couple of rich kids playing with their dicks after you leave.”
She flipped me off before shoving through the lunchroom doors.
Max Harford was going to hate the day he invited her to that party.
* * *
Regardless of the current situation with these dickheads, anytime Dayton kids got wind of a Barrington party, we always showed up to piss on their fun—just like they did with us. But this was the first time we’d crashed a party at one of their houses.
Wolf parked at the end of the cul-de-sac, and we filed out. A group of Barrington girls strutted up in tight jeans and high heels. Hendrix grabbed at his crotch. “My dick is already hard with the possibilities.”
Offensive pop music poured out into the night when Wolf opened the front door, joint pinched between his lips.
A spiral staircase wound its way to the upper level. Massive oil paintings decorated the walls, and a stuffed zebra head hung by one of the arched doorways. This was what rich people spent their money on. Things that didn’t matter. Shit that made them feel important, that they thought would impress their party guests. It was the first time my pity overtook my envy. These assholes were just as lost as I was but on the flip side of the coin.
Hendrix’s face lit up like a thirteen-year-old seeing tits for the first time. “Do you know how much shit we could steal?”
“Dude,” Wolf blew out a cloud of smoke. His gaze lifted to the ridiculous crystal chandelier hanging over our heads. “I’ll take the chandelier.”
I popped them both on the back of the head. “Don’t steal anything.”
“Yeah.” Bellamy shouldered between us. “Barrington cops don’t fuck around.”
A group of jocks with their Crest-white smiles stopped talking the second we walked in. A glare was all it took for them to turn away. They may have been the kings of their precious private school, but in the real world, they didn’t amount to shit.
Hendrix clapped his hands, rubbing them together while his attention strayed toward the living room. “How about stealing some cherries?” I followed his gaze to the group of girls by the fireplace, smiling and twirling hair around their fingers.
“Keep your dick in your pants, for once,” I said.
Hendrix mumbled “whatever” under his breath, and we took a collective step as a group. People shifted away like our poverty would rub off on them. My steps faltered when I noticed Monroe in the kitchen. I had never seen her in anything that didn’t threaten to show her ass if she bent the wrong way, and the skirt she was wearing didn’t come close to showing anything. Jade stood beside her, laughing and chugging beer. Jesus. They were actually trying to impress rich assholes who didn’t deserve a second glance from them.
Max shifted behind Monroe and handed her a beer. She tipped back her drink. Then her gaze slowly turned—like she could feel my eyes burning through the back of her red-fucking-head. Her face washed white before she touched a hand to Max’s arm, then made a beeline for me. I thought about shouldering through the crowd of preppy dickheads and grabbing their star-quarterback, snapping his neck, and spitting on his face, showing that dick what a bully actually was. But then the smell of cheap perfume wrapped around me.
“Oh, great. You came.” Sighing, Monroe latched onto my arm and tugged me to the side of the room.
“Thought you weren’t coming.” I looked back at Harford, my blood heating. His beady eyes locked on me like I was a challenge. “Change your mind, Roe?” I asked.