Page 58 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
He ends up posing with his hands out so they can use the tester makeup on his skin, deciding what they think will look best on their own eyelids. Aaron’s gaze lifts up to find mine, and we both smile. It’s a surreal moment, like something out of a fairy-tale that can never last. If Aaron hadn’t joined Havoc, if we lived in a different world …
“This one,” Kara declares, the last one to make her selection. She’s picked out a sparkly pink shadow that I know Penelope would’ve loved. My own sister can’t abide by pink in any way, shape, or form, and has chosen a neon green that makes my teeth hurt. But that’s okay, we’ll figure out a way to blend it, so it doesn’t look garish.
“What happened to your face again?” Heather asks as I grab some concealer and foundation for the angry pink gash on my cheek. I glance down at her and then lift my eyes up to find Aaron’s. He’s pursing his lips, a fire burning in his gaze that makes me awfully glad that I’m not Billie Charter.
“I got hurt at the Halloween party, I told you that,” I say, refusing to lie, but unable to tell my little sister the truth. She narrows her eyes on me, and we both know she’s smart enough to figure out that I’m not telling her the most important part of the story. I’ve been beyond careful to keep the stab wound on my arm hidden from her, too, but I know she doesn’t miss the bloodstained bandages in the trash can in our bathroom. “Why don’t you each pick out a piece of candy, too?” I suggest mildly, and it only takes the three girls a split-second to race toward the front counter together.
“Candy, huh?” Aaron asks, following me as I switch aisles and pause in front of the pregnancy tests. I don’t even care that he’s watching as I grab a few boxes. “Shit, Bern,” he murmurs as I tuck them under my arm, grabbing some tampons and a box of disposal menstrual cups in case I get my period. “Do you think you might be pregnant?”
“I have no idea,” I snap back at him, even though he’s honestly being pretty damn nice right now. “I hope not.” Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath and then glance over my shoulder at Aaron. He looks as ridiculous as Hael did in here, tattoos bathed in fluorescent light and silhouetted by sterile white walls. “If I were, would you hate me for it?”
He cocks his head at me, like he can’t even fathom where I’m coming from right now.
“Are you fucking with me, Bernie? I could never hate you.”
I look down at the items in my arms, and I feel so goddamn stupid all of a sudden. Victor is going to be the death of me. I’m going to end up pregnant and ruling the underworld of this stupid city. My breath escapes in a strong exhale, and I just feel so heavy all of a sudden.
“I’m not stupid; I understand how birth control works,” I say, more to myself than to Aaron really. He reaches out with an inked hand and takes the boxes from my overburdened arms. The brush of his fingertips across my skin leaves me breathless as I lift my gaze again.
“You’re not stupid at all,” Aaron says with a bit of a scowl, his attention fixing on the kids for a minute, calculating their distance from us, determining their relative safety. It’s what he lives for, after all, to protect his girls. “It’s Vic. He’s too intense for his own good. Havoc might be an acronym of our names, but it’s his brainchild.” Aaron turns back to me, expression softening as he taps his fingers against the side of one of the boxes. “Don’t let him get to you, Bern. If you want to be with him, fine, but don’t let him rule you.”
There’s no time for me to respond to that. Heather comes slinking around the corner, like she thought she might be able to eavesdrop on us for a minute. Too bad for her that I’m a master at that game.
“Ready to go?” I ask, ignoring her inquisitive stare as she tries to puzzle out what I’m holding in my hands. Luckily for me, Aaron has the pregnancy tests, so she doesn’t see shit.
“Yeah, I guess,” she says, getting pouty on me. She doesn’t like how much time I’m spending with the boys. She hasn’t said anything, but I can see it in her eyes. The thing is, she doesn’t understand the half of it. I’m not just hanging out with friends here; I’m seeking justice for Pen. For her.
For myself.
We head to the front and Aaron pays in cash, taking the paper bag in his right arm as I lead the way to the door.
