Page 338 of Knox Academy Omnibus
“Don’t pout, pretty boy. You can have a private dance later.”
I brighten up at that.
“Fuck, is it just me or was that really hot?” Adrianne asks, fanning herself. I grin. I fucking knew it.
“I need to get laid.”
“Been a while has it? Don’t worry, Adrianne. Being ugly is just playing life in hard mode. You’ll win a medal for that shit eventually.”
“Kalen!” Amelie chastises me as Adrianne flips me off.
“What, it’s true!” I cry, even though Adrianne isn’t ugly.
I guess raising your kid brother single handedly doesn’t leave much free time for getting laid. However, tonight I’m determined to kiss and make up with her…metaphorically at least…and I think pushing her buttons until she snaps is the best way to go.
“Let’s play something else… ooooh I know! How about charades?!”
“You know what would be hilarious?” Adrianne laughs. “If you had a heart attack while playing charades. Tragic. But fucking funny.”
“That was mean.”
“I’m starting to realise why the two of you don’t get on,” Amelie announces. “You’re the same fucking person.”
I give her my wounded puppy dog expression. I am way sexier than that single mum wannabe.
“We’re here,” Sawyer calls. A moment later the driver opens the door and we all exit the limo.
We walk towards the entrance of the club, bypassing the line. Some days it’s fucking awesome to be us. I grin. At the door, the usual bouncers are standing there, checking people’s ID as they go in, but there’s also two police officers with a police dog, sniffing for narcotics.
“I wonder if normal dogs ever look at police dogs like ‘oh shit, it’s a cop,’” I muse, bending down to pet the large Alsatian.
“Sir, please don’t stroke the dog while it’s working.”
“I’m not stroking, I’m petting. And she likes it, see.” I point to the dog’s wagging tail.
“Sir, we need you to stop. The dog is on shift right now.”
“What time does she get off? Maybe I could take her for treats. Set her up with my girlfriend’s dog, Momo. They would make adorable babies.”
“Sir, this dog is not for breeding. It is a male for one.”
“What would you even call Alsatian Pomsky crosses? Or should I call her a German Shepherd? Oh my god, is that politically correct? Are we allowed to still use the G word? Am I going to get in trouble?”
“Sir, how much have you had to drink?”
“Virtually nothing. I’m drunk on the intoxicating scent of my sister’s sweet cu—OW!”
“Sorry, he was dropped on his head as a baby. He can’t help it,” Onyx apologises to the exasperated looking police officers after whacking me around said head.
“You know, if that were true, you just assaulted someone with brain damage. You’re going to hell—oh look, Adrianne! Finally someone likes you! Maybe the bitch recognises her ownkind!” I laugh as the dog barks and sits in front of Adrianne, and she pales.
“I-I’m scared of dogs,” she stammers which for some reason makes me laugh even more. She acts so badass yet she’s scared of a medium-to-large sized ball of fur? She’s a pussy cat. The dog, not Adrianne. She’s a bitch.
“Sorry, she’s become a little over excited thanks to your friend. Go on in, we’ll just take her for a short break.”
“Ooooooh! Does that mean I can pet her now?!” I ask, excited. It’s not often you get to play with dogs at a nightclub. Unless you count some of the clientele, but they’re not nearly as cute.
“NO!” Everyone yells at me, making me jump.
