“It wouldn’t be him, it’d be his colleague!” she screeches back at me like a wild animal, turning and tearing down the hall with angry tears brimming. I let her go and then take another drink of milk as someone slow-claps at the table.
“Well done, Little Sister,” Chasm purrs, cocking his head to one side. His lightning bolt hair draws my attention, but my gaze stays for his pierced mouth. His mouth is about as stupid as Parrish’s muscles. Just … ridiculously stupid. “Wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
“Weren’t you? The syphilis must’ve already turned your brain to mush. Let me know when you get dick pus so we can form a diagnosis.”
“Why don’t you come and give me a personal check-up?” he asks, squeezing the front of his jeans. I ignore him and finish off the milk, looking around for the garbage can before I remember that the Vanguard family has a trash compactor. Like, who needs a special appliance just to turn their garbage into a Wall-E cube? I’d only ever seen one before playing The Sims on my laptop.
“STD free, so … thanks but no thanks,” I respond, feeling my blood heat with the threat of battle. If Chasm wants to start shit with me today, then let him. I’m ready. I sort of thought we were becoming friends, but I guess not.
“Morning, Dakota,” Maxx says, which is a nice change of pace from Parrish’s apathy and Chasm’s lewdness. I pretend not to care that he’s here, but that little flutter in my belly says otherwise. I haven’t seen in him in a month, not since the night of the party. Although we have been hooking up online to play games now and again.
“Morning,” I reply, resisting the warm flush I feel when he glances back at me, flashing that pretty smile of his. “Is Maxine in town?”
X shakes his head in response, but I’m not surprised. Maxie already told me she was drowning in her studies and that she wouldn’t be able to come back until next week. Still, it was worth the ask. I’d do anything to share a coffee with her right about now.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating her sister,” Chas says, pointing between me and Maxx while Parrish continues to stare out the French doors toward the gray sky above the lake. His face is distant and contemplative, but when he finally turns back to glare at me, there’s an edge of cruelty to his features.
Something about me scares him, and the only way for him to deal with that is to lash out. I brace myself for impact.
“Why?” X asks, leaning back in his own chair. He’s wearing a lime green, white, and black jacket with the words Wright Family Racing scrawled across the back. From what little I could find about him on social media, his family is big into motocross. They race nearly every week, and even have their own custom painted toy hauler to travel in. “It wasn’t a coincidence. I sought Maxine out after the news story broke, and we bonded.” He shrugs his shoulders as Chas lets out an annoying horse-like snort.
My eyes tear away from Parrish’s with great difficulty. To be quite honest, I could probably stare at him all day and forget to be bored. He’s got that sort of face, one that brings immense pleasure just by looking at it. And I hate that. I hate that I can’t let his ugly personality blind me to all that pretty. I suppose I really am just a mammal by nature, huh?
“And by bonded, you mean …” Chas starts, and then trails off when Maxx picks up an Oreo and chucks it at his head. He manages to catch it in his mouth with a husky laugh, standing up from the table as he crunches the cookie in half and grins. “You sleep with her yet or no?” he asks around a mouthful of food.
I decide then that I actually hate him more than Parrish.
“You’re a colossal dick,” I say at about the same time that X adds, “you’re a fucking prick, you know that?”
We look at each other and smile just before Maxx stands up.
“I had fun playing with you the other night,” he tells me, and Chas starts laughing again at the accidental innuendo.
“I’ll bet you did. Sisters. That must’ve been nice,” he muses as I whip a glare his way. I won’t soon forget that at least half his bravado is for show. I’m not entirely certain that he isn’t a virgin anyway. He could very well be.
“Do you enjoy sexualizing women and being a misogynistic jockstrap?”
“Do you enjoy being a dime a dozen wannabe Twitch streamer?” he retorts, giving me an awful smile as he pushes back that yellow streaked black hair of his. I won’t soon forget that he thought to shove me in the pool at our first meeting. Or … that he’s been tutoring me for weeks. Asking nothing in return but my silence. Fuck.
