Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“A rich girl?” A devious glint sparked to life in Hendrix’s eyes. “From Barrington?”
Maybe she’d gone to Barrington, but seeing as how she was twenty-one... “Don’t know, man. She’s older.”
Hendrix punched my shoulder. “I hate you. Hooking up with cougars and shit.”
“Twenty-one is not a cougar,” Wolf said.
“Whatever, man. Still older. It’s fine, because, like I was saying… Betty Newman.”
Wolf sighed, slapping a palm over his face. “Here we go about Betty…She’s in band, Hendrix. She plays the tuba. She’s like—”
“Exactly, man. She’s in band. Haven’t you seen that movie about all those band kids that get freaky with their band instruments?” Hendrix flattened himself to the lunchroom doors, crotch-thrusting with a laugh.
Wolf leaned in beside me. “Is he talking about an actual movie or porn or what?”
Hendrix moved away from the doors with a scowl. “American Pie, you uncultured cocksucker. Band kids are into some kinky shit.” Then he clapped a hand to my shoulder, staring me dead in the eye like he was about to hand over some life-changing revelation. “Betty Newman takes it in the ass instead of the cooch.”
I knocked his hand away. “So?”
“So?” Hendrix gaped for a second. His gaze pinged between Wolf and me. “The fact that you just said so, disappoints me, Bell.”
Mrs. Smith parted the sea of students crowding the hallway. “Outta the way.” She unlocked the door, chugging a thermos everyone knew was filled with vodka, and students begrudgingly filed in.
“Sit your back ends down and be quiet,” she grumbled. “Think about whatever bullshit you did to end up in here.” Her purse hit the table with a thud before she sank to a stool, thermos already halfway to her lips. “No talking. Just reflecting.”
Reflecting. Half the kids in here had been arrested more than once. No way in hell detention would make any of us reflect on anything. It was Dayton. There wasn’t shit to reflect on.
Five minutes into detention, I’d made a quick eighty bucks from the copied tests, and Hendrix had talked some band girl into sending him a picture of her tits, which was why his phone was currently shoved in my face. I slapped his hand away just as the cafeteria doors creaked open, and Hendrix let out a catcall.
Still in her short-shorts from cheerleading practice, Nora Locke stood at the door, propping it open with her hip. “And this”—she waved an unenthusiastic hand across the room— “is the cafeteria. The food’s disgusting. So, don’t expect much. Everything about this school is shit.”
When she went to move back into the hall, I noticed a girl beside her. Dark hair. Hot-pink dress. Sexy as hell. It was just a glimpse, but a girl as hot as Genevieve—all it took was a glance to recognize her.
Nora was the ambassador, and the only reason she ever gave someone a tour was if they were unfortunate enough to be transferred. Twenty-one my ass. If that girl were about to start at Dayton, she was as good as mine, and my dick knew it because he rose to attention.
“Is that fresh meat?” Hendrix stared at the door as it swung closed behind the two girls. “Oh shit. Did you see her, Bell?”
I’d seen her all right. Tits and pussy and all…
“It’s like manna from heaven.” Hendrix raised his hands in makeshift praise. “Fresh meat this late in the school year!”
“Yeah, I saw her,” I said, already pushing to my feet and asking to be excused for the restroom.
I followed the sound of their voices to the front of the school, stopping by the lockers as Nora gave a peppy wave. And I could now say, without a reasonable doubt, the girl heading through the front doors of Dayton High was Genevieve. When she exited the building, I was right after her, crossing the parking lot in the sticky Alabama heat.
With each step I took, her steps quickened. Then I caught up. “Twenty-one, huh?”
She whipped around with a startled expression and a can of mace held out in front of her like a gun. Her face shifted into an annoyed scowl when her gaze landed on my face, and I fought a laugh. Poor little rich girl was out of her element. That was for damn sure.
She dropped the mace into her purse on a huff. “What the hell are you doing here?” Like she was the one who belonged in this dump?
“I think the one of us who’s outta place is you,” I said, dragging my gaze over her curves.
“Great. Of course you go to the shit hole school. Why wouldn’t you?” She mumbled about how awful her life was, marching off with a sway of hips. “I’m not in the mood,” she said, then gave a flippant wave over her shoulder. “So, run back to your girlfriend and leave me alone.”