Page 81 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“Maybe,” he says, turning to head back the way he came—which most definitely is not to class. Instead, he pushes open the double doors that lead to the rear courtyard. “I'll see you after school on Wednesday,” he calls out as he slips through the doors.
“What's happening on Wednesday?” I call out, but he either doesn't hear me or chooses to ignore me, leaving me alone in the beautiful urban decay that is Prescott High.“How have your dates with Brittany been?” I ask Hael, glancing over at him as he grips the steering wheel of the Camaro in tight fingers. I've barely seen him since Friday, and it just pisses me all the way off that he's with Brittany when he should rightfully be with … well, Havoc. I mean, he's the first fucking letter in the acronym, right?
“How do you think? A living hell,” he snaps, swiping a hand down his face as I raise my brows. “Sorry, Blackbird. I don't mean to snap, but I just … I didn't see my senior year being about doctor's visits and cribs and car seats. She wants us to talk to her dad on Friday, too, so there's a good chance I'll be attending my own funeral before the birth of my kid.”
“If it's your kid,” I add, but maybe that's for my own benefit because Hael doesn't seem particularly optimistic. He scowls, and I have to wonder what Brittany told him about the other possible father. He hasn't said anything, but I figure he's just been gearing up for it.
“Listen to you complaining,” Callum says with a grin, leaning between the two front seats with his hood down for once, golden hair shining in the sun. Like a poisonous spider with a brightly colored exoskeleton, warning off potential predators. “If you didn't want senior year to include a baby, and all the stuff that goes with it, you could've held back on the sex.”
Hael grits his teeth as we wait for Oscar and Aaron. With the minivan out of commission, we're a little short on rides around here.
“It's so easy to say that now,” Hael growls out, revving the engine and then sighing dramatically. He glances my way, almost apologetically. “Besides, I used condoms every. fucking. time. There's no reason this should've happened.”
I keep my arms crossed over my chest, my attention focused on his beautiful face. I'm not sure that there's ever been a man quite so pretty, yet handsome at the same time. I've been lusting after him for years, but now that he's within my grasp, he suddenly feels even further away. Even if it his kid, that doesn't mean you can't—
Ugh.
I’m as addicted to these assholes as Pamela is to being a cunt. It’s impossible for me to stop, to resist, to pull back.
“What are we up to today?” I ask, spotting Aaron and Oscar across the street.
The expression on Hael's face softens slightly, and he adjusts his hands on the wheel, flashing the HAVOC tattoo on his knuckles.
“Today's a good day,” Hael says, nodding his head briefly. “I shouldn't be harping around Brittany, and all that shit. Today isn't about me.”
“Then who's it about?” I ask as Hael opens his door and climbs out to let the others in. He pauses briefly to peep in at me, lifting a reddish-brown brow.
“You, babe. You.”
Hael moves out of the way, leaving Aaron and Oscar to squeeze into the backseat with Callum. They're all fucking huge, so the effect is somewhat like a clown car.
“You guys looking ridiculous,” I crow, trying to hold back a grin. I wonder briefly why I'm not with Vic, sitting on the back of his Harley. That'd free up another seat and make things way more comfortable. Unfortunately, he's nowhere to be seen, so we're going to have to make do.
My guess: he’s still furious about me fucking Aaron.
Speaking of …
I don’t look over my shoulder at my ex. Shit, I don’t even know if I’d really call him an ex anymore. The sex was … explosive. I’d been expecting good, nostalgic, comfortable. Aaron Fadler could give Vic and a Hael a run for their money.
“Don’t get started on that whiny crap,” Oscar says, and I spin around to glare at him as Hael revs the Camaro’s engine like he’s fucking her.
“Goddamn, that’s beautiful,” he murmurs, giving his crotch a squeeze and winking at me as I glance his way. But then we take off and I turn back to berate Oscar for being a prick.
Oscar’s not looking at me though, his attention focused on Aaron as he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the seat.
Ah.
I’d almost forgotten that he was claustrophobic. It’s apparent now that Oscar’s quip was meant to shame him. Doesn’t make me any less angry, but more so.
