Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Enough!” Smith grabbed me by the ear, hauling me to my feet like the Incredible Hulk fueled by vodka.
“Damn, Miss Smith,” I fought free of her hold. “You’re strong for a drunk.”
I could almost see the steam swirling from the top of her head.
“Get your nasty, X-rated self on down to Principal Brown’s.” She shoved me toward the door. “‘Cause if you don’t get out my classroom, there ain’t gonna be a wheel for Jesus to take.”
She went back to her desk, scribbled out a detention slip, then slapped it in my waiting palm. I’d been through this drill a thousand times before.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” I said.
She glared at me before I turned to leave.
At least I didn’t have to sit through that stupid class. Who in Dayton needs biology? I stared down at the pink slip on my way through the empty halls. Hendrix Hunt—disrupting class by talking about eating cats. God, Brown was going to love this.
The receptionist glanced up from behind the counter when I stepped into the office, rolling her eyes behind her glasses. “Have a nice summer, Mr. Hunt?”
“I stayed in this hellhole.” I scribbled my name on the sign-in sheet. “What do you think?”
She nodded toward the two worn chairs outside of Brown’s closed door. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you on the second day of school.”
“He should expect nothing less.”
It wasn’t two minutes after I fell into the chair that the office door swung open, and Lola came in, signing her name to the ledger. Her gaze shifted to me before she took the seat beside me. Couldn’t escape her even in the principal’s office.
“This is your fault,” she mumbled.
My fault. “Like I made you say any of that shit.” I huffed, staring straight ahead at the half-filled sports trophy case. “Fucking Jethro…” I hated her. Hated her on so many Medusa-laden levels.
“You deserved it. You were being a dick to Kyle.”
“You were being a dick to Kyle,” I mocked in a high-pitched voice. “I’m always a dick to Kyle. You’re just all sensitive now because you're evidently banging that sack of shit.”
“Says the guy banging Jessica Masters.”
Oh, she didn’t deny it. My jaw set, my leg bounced, and I told myself it didn’t matter. I loathed her. I couldn’t care who she screwed, but I sure as hell could push her buttons.
“I banged Jessica.” My gaze met hers. I fought that sick feeling rising in my chest when I thought of what Lola and I used to be to each other. Used to, until she screwed it all up. “I only pussy slam a girl once. The line is just too long for repeats.”
Her lip curled, her disgusted gaze raking over me like I was a diseased rag. “You’re gross.”
I pressed back in the chair, trying to ignore her. But then she crossed her legs.
The hem of her shirt lifted, exposing more of her tanned thigh. I knew just how good those thighs felt wrapped around my head, my tongue in her pussy, and the thought that there was the smallest chance Kyle might now be the one ripping off her clothes—or any guy for that matter—I couldn’t stand it.
My leg bounced harder. “Does he mouth breath all over your pussy like Darth Vader?” Like Kyle would know what to do with a pussy if it handed him a diagrammed How-To manual.
“Why do you care? You hate me.”
She was right, I did, and I shouldn’t care. “You earned every bit of that hate, Lola Stevens.”
Brown’s door creaked open. I got up, and just before I ducked into the office, I turned to Lola and mouthed Fuck You, Medusa.
Late afternoon sun spilled through the living room windows, casting shadows over the stained carpet. Wolf came out of my kitchen with a bag of Doritos. “I’m proud of you for waiting until the second day to get detention.”
“What can I say?” I shot Bellamy’s avatar. Blood splattered the screen, and the digital soldier dropped to the desert ground. “I’ve grown over the summer.”
Bellamy chucked his controller to the couch. “Forgot to tell you. I saw ‘she who shall not be named’ waiting tables at The Squealing Hog yesterday.”
“Congratufuckinglations.” I glanced at the clock, then pushed off the sofa, gathering the empty cans littering the coffee table.
“Does he sound like a little butthurt bitch to you, Wolf?”
I turned and hurled a crumpled can at Bellamy. “I don’t give a corn-riddled shit about what she does.” Unless it was banging Kyle. Or any guy.
“Unless it’s stealing tampons from Bullseye.” Wolf took the joint from behind his ear and placed it to his lips, jerking his chin toward me. “Casanova here helped her steal them the other day.”
“Man, I didn’t help her—”
“Glass-eyed Gerald would have totally busted her. You told her, and I quote, ‘any idiot knows you take stuff out of the box.’”