Page 144 of Knox Academy Omnibus
I check the time and see that it’s later than I expected.
“Right, I should get going,” I tell them, getting to my feet and heading for the door. “Don’t fuck with my stuff.”
With that final warning, I leave my room and the house, jump in my car and drive into town. I grab some supplies because I don’t want to turn up empty handed at Amelie’s door, and then head back to campus.
Arms laden down with bags, I carefully knock on her door.
“What do you want, Kalen?” She gives me an exhausted, exasperated kind of look and I wonder if I’ve managed to successfully grind her down yet. I’ll admit, I’ve been pretty annoying.
“I thought we might hang out.” I give her my most charming, boyish grin but she scowls at me.
“No.”
“No? But...I brought slags!”
Her arms land heavily on her hips and she gives me a ferocious stare which has me scratching my head in confusion. I really thought that would work.
“You brought slags...here...to my room?”
“Yeah!” I beam at her.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Should I have brought subs instead?” I frown, really confused now.
“I don’t give a damn what you do in private, Kalen, but you’re not fucking a sub in my room!”
“Why would I fuck a sub?” My nose crinkles in distaste.
“That’s generally what you do with them, where I come from.” She glowers. I’m starting to wonder if this is a cultural thing. Don’t even get me started on what she thinks I’ll do with a slag.
“Look, I think there’s a misunderstanding...I brought booze too!”
“Oh, well come on in then,” she says dryly. “We can make it an orgy.”
I ignore her blatant sarcasm and push my way into her room anyway. Crossing to the bed, I leap onto it and settle down cross legged in the centre, dropping my bags beside me. I quickly start to unpack everything – including a bottle of her favourite bourbon – before she can kick me out.
“What’s this?” she asks, crossing to the bed.
“A picnic. A pity party.” I shrug. “A pity party picnic? Honestly, it can be whatever you want. I just thought after ‘dinner’, aka Laura’s rabbit food diet, you might be hungry.”
“Okay,” she says, snatching the bourbon and drinking from the bottle. “What did you bring?”
“I told you,” I unwrap the packages and hold out my offering. “Slags.”
She looks down at the sausage sandwich in my hand and bursts out laughing, spraying me with her drink.
“Jeez, did that just come out of your nose?” I grumble. She ignores me though, wiping away the tears of laughter that are streaming down her face. “What’s so funny?”
“You are. Slags. Kalen, these aresnags,” she heavily pronounces the word, plucking the sausage from my hand and tucking straight in. “You really need to brush up on your slang if you want to avoid a faux pas.” My eyes light up as her anger leaves her and I realise that while I totally fucked that one up, I’m in her room and she’s no longer mad, so it can’t all be bad, can it?
“Maybe you could give me a refresher lesson,” I say slyly. She doesn’t answer me though, she’s too busy demolishing the sausage, sauce dripping down her chin, and making all kinds of distracting sounds as she does.
“Will you stop staring at me, you perv?” she snaps.
“Can’t,” I groan, subtly readjusting my jeans. “Will you stop making sex noises over a sausage?”
“Can’t.” She grins back. “It’s the best thing I’ve had in my mouth since coming to this godforsaken country.”
