I snort and roll onto my back, scrolling to the next page.I’m not sure why I said that. Really, it was stupid as hell. And it made no sense. But everyone laughed, and patted me on the back, and I felt more welcome there than I’d ever felt at Everly. The bullying will stop, I’m sure of it. The things I went through the last three years, they won’t happen here; I won’t let them happen here.I read until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, but none of the ‘fucked-up’ stuff that Ranger spoke about is in here yet. What is in here are mentions of Rick, her childhood friend that she was dating, and even Lionel aka Mr. Murphy who was nice to her from day one.
I am suspicious as fuck about that guy.
“What can I do from here?” I grumble, turning on my side and setting my phone on the wireless charging pad that’s built into the nightstand (yeah, it’s pretty swanky in here, I know). My eyes close, and before I know it, I’m out.On Monday, I'm back at school, dressed in a short skirt, tank top, and sandals. I've got my contacts in, makeup on, and my hair as straight and shiny as I can get it.
It's a little weird, going to class and not wearing my uniform. I thought I hated Adamson, but now that I'm standing in the front hall of Santa Cruz High with its brightly colored walls and beach-ready populace, I miss the stone walls and rough-hewn wood beams.
I miss the stupid Student Council, and the Culinary Club.
With a sigh, I head down the hall, find my old locker and stuff the jacket that I most definitely don't need inside of it. What was I thinking? The stupid northeast weather is messing with my head.
The school day is pretty boring, pretty much what I expected. My old friends and teachers greet me warmly, but I still end the day feeling like a fish out of water. Monica takes me back into the fold, and by the end of the week, everything is starting to feel like … well, like it's sophomore year all over again. Minus Cody, that is.
I spot him once in the hallway and his eyes go wide, but I end up just flipping him off and sauntering down the hall after Monica. I don't have time for scumbags.
Instead, every day after school, I head back to Monica's place and video chat with the guys.
They always answer my calls. Every single one. My texts, too.
“Nothing new to report,” Spencer says, lying on his back on his bed, totally shirtless and drool-worthy. I shift uncomfortably and then lie back into the pillows of the guest room bed, mimicking his pose. “I mean, since we last talked a few hours ago.” He smirks at me. “I like this, having you call me every day.”
“You call me every day,” I retort, and it's true. He does. We still haven't exactly ironed out what it is we both expect from our relationship, or what it means that the twins are now somehow a part of that. It just seems like a conversation that’d be better had in person.
“Yeah, because I like you.” He pauses and bites his lower lip, holding the phone straight above his body so that I can see his entire top half, from his silver-ash hair down to the deep 'V' muscles near his hips. I swallow hard.
“Yeah?”
“Dude, Chuck,” Spencer says, grinning and reaching up to ruffle his silver hair. He looks like a fox when he smiles like that. “I was into you when I thought you had a dick. Dicks gross me out, and I was getting hard at the thought of sucking yours.”
“Please stop,” I choke out, but I'm laughing and blushing at the same time. “You were not.”
“Yeah, I was. That day I came to your room to fix the door, I was prepared to do it. I wanted to do it. Like, I'm really glad you have a vagina instead, but that's just a bonus.” He shrugs his muscular shoulders, and I feel this tingle that travels from my chest down to the ends of my fingers and toes. My hand sneaks between my thighs and just brushes up against the thin cotton of my shorts. Paired with the sight of Spencer, and the sound of his voice, it's enough to make me shiver.
“So,” he starts, and I withdraw my hand, swallowing hard and hoping he didn’t notice I was up to anything untoward. “How are your parents handling you staying with Monica?”
“They’re pissed,” I say, thinking of my last conversation with my dad. He called me on a video chat, but I didn’t answer. There was no way in hell I wanted to see him glaring at me with those daggers he calls eyes. I called him back, and we had a short, terse conversation that didn’t end well. He wants me to go back to Aunt Elisa’s, but I don’t trust Mom. She tried to drag me to Los Angeles against my will, and I know she’s still staying with her sister. I had Monica drive me by the day after the airport incident, and then again yesterday. Elisa and Mom were standing out front of the apartment building, smoking cigarettes. “I mean, my aunt doesn’t give a shit what I do. Actually, I’m sure she’s thrilled I’m staying at Monica’s. But both parents are furious. Archie threatened to call the cops, but the Peters ended up giving him a call and talking him out of it.” A heavy frown sits on my mouth, and I nibble my lower lip.
