Page 141 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“Here,” I say, giving Basti a dark glare as he smiles smugly; I grab the metal travel cup for my grandma. “I prepared your coffee.”
“Thank you, Scarlett,” Grandma says, offering me up a soft smile and reaching a wrinkled hand up to cup the side of my face. “You’re a blessing, you know that?”
Just trying to make up for your shitty daughter, I think to myself, forcing a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” She pats my cheek and gives me a sharp look.
“I won’t so long as you promise not to torment your guests while I’m gone.”
She offers Bastian a head pat on her way past; Nisha gets a shoulder squeeze.
If Lemon were here …
“Whatever happened to Lucy?” Patricia asks, and I swear, the three of us give a collective cringe. Lucy. Lemon’s behavior at the party last night was, while not unexpected, supremely disappointing. As far as Aspen? I can’t even get started on Aspen.
Part of me feels like … no, not feels like … knows that he’s lying to me.
Lying to me about something big.
I bite my thumbnail, and Nisha’s nostrils flare. She turns around to smile at my grandma.
“She’s just excited about her engagement to some rich shmuck, thinks she’s got the rest of us in Prescott beat.”
My grandma lets out a weary sigh and nods her head slightly, eyes far away, like she’s thinking about a different time, a different place. Old people do that a lot, I’ve noticed. Agnes does it, Mildred. If I’m lucky enough to make it to their age—doubtful—I’m sure I’ll be doing it, too.
“A lot of people over the years have thought similar things,” Patricia offers up, and then she’s on her way out the door. The three of us stay quiet until we hear her car start up outside. My aunt and mother both have left the house already this morning. The former picked up an extra shift to, and I quote, prove to my boss that I deserve this promotion. The latter has taken Alexis out for a mother-daughter date that will likely end up with the two of them screaming at each other.
Alexis will accuse my mom of taking her twenty-one money (a lump sum given to members of the Yurok tribe at that age) and my mom will deny it even though she did take the money. For bills, is what she said at the time, but … ehhhhh.
I snatch the plastic mixing bowl, giving Basti an ugly sneer as I watch him eat from the prized cereal bowl. He flips me off, and I return the favor, making sure to use my right hand so I can flash the upside-down cross that’s inked there.
“You’re a fucking chode,” I grumble out, and he snorts.
“I assure you, honey, that I am anything but a chode.” He grabs his junk and I scowl even harder, pointing at Nisha with the spoon that I traded out the butter knife for.
“Remind me again why we let a man into our crew? Every time I forget that Basti was born with an unfortunate extra appendage, he reminds me by acting like …”
“A guy?” Basti queries. As soon as I finish pouring the milk, I flick some of it at him, and he chuckles. “Sorry, I’ll try to be less of a guy if it’ll please you, Queen.”
“It would, thank you very much,” I state, pouring cereal into the giant bowl as Nisha looks on in disgust. She says it makes her nauseous to eat in the morning; she only drinks coffee. Specifically, she drinks her coffee scalding hot, way too strong, and with a heaping spoonful of sugar. “Hot, cheap, and sweet—just like Lemon.” That’s what Nisha used to say. While two of those things are still true, the latter seems to have been left by the wayside.
“So you say, but you sure have been hanging out with plenty of other guys lately,” Basti continues absently, and I stop with a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth as Nisha kicks him underneath the table.
“She just had a hard night, you insensitive prick,” she growls, and I smile. Carefully, I put my spoon down in my bowl, place my elbows on the table, and clasp my hands together.
“Basti,” I start, but he’s suddenly so invested in his cereal that he doesn’t seem to hear me. Bullshit. I unfold my hands, sit back, and then slam a fist onto the worn wooden surface, making him jump. “What are you talking about? My date with Alexei Grove? Bohnes being my fuckboy? Or … something else?”
Basti pokes at his cereal with his spoon and mumbles something in Spanish under his breath.
“Dude, come on!” I shout, sitting back in my seat and kicking him under the table. He finally looks up at me and sighs heavily.
