Vicious
Page 7
I tucked the blunt back into the corner of my mouth, swiveling back to the TV. The whole room fell quiet and all eyes were directed at me for further instructions, and what the fuck was everybody so upset about?
“Hey, you.” I pointed at the girl who Trent had thrown away mid-fuck. She was fixing her hair in front of the mirror next to my gaming rig. I patted my lap twice. “Over here, and bring your friend.” I pinned the other one with my eyes. The girl I’d rejected only moments ago. Good thing she’d decided to stick around.
With a giggling girl on each leg, I took a hit of my joint, pulled the first girl’s hair so that she was facing me and pressed my lips to hers. I exhaled, shotgunning the smoke into her mouth. She took it all in with an excited gasp.
“Move it forward.” I brushed the bridge of her nose with the tip of mine, my eyes heavy. She smiled with her mouth closed and kissed the other girl on my lap, letting the smoke seep into her mouth.
Trent and Jaime watched me the whole time.
“They’re probably just fuck buddies,” Trent offered, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. “I didn’t hear about this shit until tonight, and Dean can keep a secret like I can keep my pants up at a Playboy-mansion party.”
“Yeah,” Jaime chipped in. “It’s Dean, dude. He’s never had a serious girlfriend. He’s never had a serious anything.” Standing up, he shouldered into his navy letter jacket. “Anyway, I gotta head out.”
Of course. To pretend to be some loser on a dating site and spend the night sexting Ms. Greene. I swear, if I hadn’t seen his dick in the locker room, I’d assume Jaime actually had a pussy.
“But I’m telling you,” he added, “don’t overanalyze it. There’s no way in hell Dean’s settling down. He’s set on New York for college. You’re staying here with her. She didn’t get accepted anywhere, right?”
Right.
On top of that, Help hadn’t bagged a scholarship so far. I knew that because we shared the same mailbox, and I browsed through her envelopes to see where little Emilia Leblanc was headed next. So far, it looked like she wasn’t going anywhere, much to her dismay.
I was going to a bullshit college in Los Angeles a couple of hours away, and she was staying here. I would come back every other weekend, and she’d still be here. Catering to me.
Serving me.
Envying me.
She was going to stay small and insignificant. Uneducated and opportunity-less. And above all—mine.
“I really don’t give a fuck.” I chuckled, grabbing both the girls’ asses, clutching their soft flesh as I moved them toward one another.
“Lick each other’s tits for me.” My tone was flat. They did as they were told. It was so easy to get them to do it, it depressed the hell out of me.
“So where were we?” I asked my friends.
The girls and their tongues were at war. They begged for my attention like two dogs fighting for their lives in an underground fight. They did nothing for me, and naturally, I resented them for that.
“In deep denial, apparently. Jesus.” Jaime shook his head, sauntering to the door. He clasped Trent’s shoulder on his way out. “Make sure the girls don’t do anything too stupid.”
“You mean like him?” Trent jerked his thumb toward me.
I squinted at him. But he didn’t care. He was a kid from the hood. Nothing scared him, let alone my rich milky ass.
There was rage brimming inside me. Soon, it was going to overflow.
They were so sure they knew me. So sure I wanted Emilia LeBlanc.
“Fuck this shit. I’m going down to the pool.” I stood up suddenly, and the girls collapsed, each of them landing on an arm of the chair with a soft thud.
One of them whined in protest, and the other shrieked, “What the hell!”
“Bad high,” I offered as a half-assed explanation.
“It happens.” The girl who’d fucked Trent a second ago smiled in understanding.
I wanted to beat the shit out of their dads almost as much as I wanted to screw up Daryl. Their availability repulsed me.
“Are you gonna call me?” Alicia-Lucia tugged on my shirt. Hope glittered in her eyes.
I gave her a slow once-over. She looked good, but not as good as she thought. Then again, she was eager to please, so probably not the worst lay.
I’d warned her.
She’d refused to listen.
And I wasn’t a good guy.
“Leave your number on Trent’s phone.” I turned on my heel and left.
In the hallway, people made way for me, gluing their backs to the wall, smiling and raising their red Solo cups to me, groveling like I was the fucking pope. And to them—I was. This was my kingdom. People loved my type of evil. That was the thing about California, and that’s why I would never leave. I loved everything other people hated about it. The liars, the pretenders, the masks, and the plastic. I loved how people cared about what was in your pocket and not in your fucking chest. I loved that they were impressed by expensive cars and cheap wit. Hell, I even loved the earthquakes and bullshit vegetable shakes.
These people who I hated were my home. This place—my playground.
Murmurs rose from every corner of the hallway. I didn’t usually grace these people with my presence, but when I did, they knew why. Shit was going to go down tonight. Excitement filled the air.
“Fell in Love With a Girl” by The White Stripes pounded against the dark walls.
“Hey, you.” I pointed at the girl who Trent had thrown away mid-fuck. She was fixing her hair in front of the mirror next to my gaming rig. I patted my lap twice. “Over here, and bring your friend.” I pinned the other one with my eyes. The girl I’d rejected only moments ago. Good thing she’d decided to stick around.
With a giggling girl on each leg, I took a hit of my joint, pulled the first girl’s hair so that she was facing me and pressed my lips to hers. I exhaled, shotgunning the smoke into her mouth. She took it all in with an excited gasp.
“Move it forward.” I brushed the bridge of her nose with the tip of mine, my eyes heavy. She smiled with her mouth closed and kissed the other girl on my lap, letting the smoke seep into her mouth.
Trent and Jaime watched me the whole time.
“They’re probably just fuck buddies,” Trent offered, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. “I didn’t hear about this shit until tonight, and Dean can keep a secret like I can keep my pants up at a Playboy-mansion party.”
“Yeah,” Jaime chipped in. “It’s Dean, dude. He’s never had a serious girlfriend. He’s never had a serious anything.” Standing up, he shouldered into his navy letter jacket. “Anyway, I gotta head out.”
Of course. To pretend to be some loser on a dating site and spend the night sexting Ms. Greene. I swear, if I hadn’t seen his dick in the locker room, I’d assume Jaime actually had a pussy.
“But I’m telling you,” he added, “don’t overanalyze it. There’s no way in hell Dean’s settling down. He’s set on New York for college. You’re staying here with her. She didn’t get accepted anywhere, right?”
Right.
On top of that, Help hadn’t bagged a scholarship so far. I knew that because we shared the same mailbox, and I browsed through her envelopes to see where little Emilia Leblanc was headed next. So far, it looked like she wasn’t going anywhere, much to her dismay.
I was going to a bullshit college in Los Angeles a couple of hours away, and she was staying here. I would come back every other weekend, and she’d still be here. Catering to me.
Serving me.
Envying me.
She was going to stay small and insignificant. Uneducated and opportunity-less. And above all—mine.
“I really don’t give a fuck.” I chuckled, grabbing both the girls’ asses, clutching their soft flesh as I moved them toward one another.
“Lick each other’s tits for me.” My tone was flat. They did as they were told. It was so easy to get them to do it, it depressed the hell out of me.
“So where were we?” I asked my friends.
The girls and their tongues were at war. They begged for my attention like two dogs fighting for their lives in an underground fight. They did nothing for me, and naturally, I resented them for that.
“In deep denial, apparently. Jesus.” Jaime shook his head, sauntering to the door. He clasped Trent’s shoulder on his way out. “Make sure the girls don’t do anything too stupid.”
“You mean like him?” Trent jerked his thumb toward me.
I squinted at him. But he didn’t care. He was a kid from the hood. Nothing scared him, let alone my rich milky ass.
There was rage brimming inside me. Soon, it was going to overflow.
They were so sure they knew me. So sure I wanted Emilia LeBlanc.
“Fuck this shit. I’m going down to the pool.” I stood up suddenly, and the girls collapsed, each of them landing on an arm of the chair with a soft thud.
One of them whined in protest, and the other shrieked, “What the hell!”
“Bad high,” I offered as a half-assed explanation.
“It happens.” The girl who’d fucked Trent a second ago smiled in understanding.
I wanted to beat the shit out of their dads almost as much as I wanted to screw up Daryl. Their availability repulsed me.
“Are you gonna call me?” Alicia-Lucia tugged on my shirt. Hope glittered in her eyes.
I gave her a slow once-over. She looked good, but not as good as she thought. Then again, she was eager to please, so probably not the worst lay.
I’d warned her.
She’d refused to listen.
And I wasn’t a good guy.
“Leave your number on Trent’s phone.” I turned on my heel and left.
In the hallway, people made way for me, gluing their backs to the wall, smiling and raising their red Solo cups to me, groveling like I was the fucking pope. And to them—I was. This was my kingdom. People loved my type of evil. That was the thing about California, and that’s why I would never leave. I loved everything other people hated about it. The liars, the pretenders, the masks, and the plastic. I loved how people cared about what was in your pocket and not in your fucking chest. I loved that they were impressed by expensive cars and cheap wit. Hell, I even loved the earthquakes and bullshit vegetable shakes.
These people who I hated were my home. This place—my playground.
Murmurs rose from every corner of the hallway. I didn’t usually grace these people with my presence, but when I did, they knew why. Shit was going to go down tonight. Excitement filled the air.
“Fell in Love With a Girl” by The White Stripes pounded against the dark walls.
