Chapter 5

five

HENDRIX

Tuesday morning, Wolf and I sat on the back of his tailgate, selling dime bags to the students before they headed into school. If I were lucky, by the end of the week, I'd have enough to keep my power from getting cut off.

"What time is the girl supposed to come look at the place?" Wolf asked.

"Six."

"If she's hot, rent it to her."

"Man, my power is about to get cut off. If she looks like Quasimodo's twin sister and smells like a can of open ass but can pay, I'll rent it to her."

I'd just taken ten bucks from some kid wearing headgear when I noticed Kyle's faded-red Honda parked up on the opposite side of the lot. He climbed out, nearly stacking it to the concrete when he reached back in for his bookbag. Good, I hoped it was a case of massive blue balls weighing him down.

Wolf knocked his shoulder to mine. "What the hell are you looking at, dude?"

"Fucking Kyle…"

"Why do you hate that dweeb so much? He's wearing a Star Wars tank top, dude…"

"And that's reason enough, Wolf. Just look at him." I pointed toward the sack of shit as I pocketed the money.

Wolf didn't know exactly why I hated him. None of the guys did. It was something I couldn't bring myself to admit.

"He's the definition of hateable."

Then the passenger side door opened, and Lola got out.

I glared over the rusted-out hoods at the traitorous, Medusa-spawn of a woman. A breeze caught the baggy T-shirt she had on, plastering it to her perfect tits. That's all it took for my blood flow to shift a little.

Wolf leaned up, blocking my view. "Wonder if they're fucking."

I slapped the back of his sweaty head. "She's not fucking him, ogre-face turd disposal."

She wasn't. He was everything I wasn't, a delicate flower with manners. Lola was a rebel with a temper that almost matched mine. No way in hell she'd find him attractive. And even if she was banging him, I shouldn't give a flying evil monkey shit. I'd burned all the shits I had to give…treehouse included.

"If he's not, he's at least trying. And you know I'm right."

Lola slung her backpack over her shoulder. It caught on the tail of her shirt, pulling it up and showcasing her incredible, make-Beyonce-jealous ass. Right at that very moment, Kyle pulled his inhaler out of his pocket. That's right, Kyle. She's too much for you to handle. He may as well retreat to his Wookie hut and beat one out to his Ewok porn.

Wolf shook his head, grabbing his shoulder pads before hopping off the truck. "Come on, psycho."

I slid off the back end of the truck while Kyle and Lola headed toward the school.

Walking together.

Riding together.

My eye twitched just as Wolf slammed his tailgate.

"I'm not getting your ass out of jail if you beat up Star Wars Kyle," he said, crossing the lot.

"He didn't pay his donation." I started after him, watching Kyle dive for the door to hold it open for Lola. "I'm not responsible for what happens if the kid doesn't want to buy himself insurance." Not that we went around beating people's asses for no reason, but Kyle had made it personal when he had tried to help Lola hide her pregnancy from me. Honestly, he was lucky the worst I'd done to him was throw water-filled condoms at him.

"Jesus Christ…" Wolf shook his head before hopping the curb. "You and I both know you won't do shit to him. He weighs a buck ten. You could breathe too heavily and knock him out. Besides, Lola would—"

I socked him in the gut hard enough he doubled over.

"Seriously, dude?" He coughed.

"Don't say her name." I flipped him off and skirted through the doors into the congested hallway. The bang of lockers and squeak of sneakers filled the narrow space, along with the dank smell of weed and body odor.

A few guys froze in the middle of the hallway, staring at me with a look of pure panic.

"Smell that fresh fear." Wolf sucked in a deep, satisfied breath. "It's ‘cause they know I'm not gonna rein you in."

Because Zepp always had. I'd had a permanent case of whiplash from the number of times he had grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me back to keep me from getting into fights.

Wolf patted my back. "See you later, psycho."

I took my books from my locker and went to Smith's class, sinking to my seat with an annoyed huff.One by one, the empty chairs filled. By the time Kyle and Lola got into the room, only two desks were left. One right in front of me.

I grinned at Kyle, daring that sack of shit to take the seat.

He glanced at Lola, then squared his shoulders. Swallowing, he aimed his attention at the back wall and started down the aisle like he was being marched down death row. Then he dropped into the chair like a dead fly dropping to a turd.

I waited for him to get situated before I leaned over his shoulder. "What a chivalrous little geek in Darth Vader armor you are." I kicked the back of his chair.

He visibly tensed, opening his comic book and burying his nose in it.

"You think acting like a little hero is gonna get Lola to ride your dick, Kyle?"

He didn't respond. Didn't even take a breath, like he was that guy on the toilet in Jurassic Park who thought if he just didn't move, the T-Rex wouldn't gobble him up.

I put my finger in my mouth, leaned over the desk, then slipped it in his ear. "I said something to you."

He cringed away. I should have left it alone, but the idea that he had the balls to think he might screw her… it was too much for my demonic ego to swallow.

"You know I fucked her, so if you ever try to stick your tongue in my girl—" I bit the inside of my cheek at that slip-up. She wasn't mine—"you may as well be sucking my cock."

I glanced to the side of the classroom where Lola had taken a seat, thrilled when I found her glaring at me. Was I petty? Absol-fucking-lutely. I waved at her, placing a heavy hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Is that what it is, Kyle? You want to suck my dick?"

"N-no?"

I lifted a brow. "That didn't sound so sure to me."

His cheeks went red, his little nerd anger brewing to the point he crinkled the corner of his comic book. "Lola doesn't want to suck it, either!" His eyes went wide like he was shocked he'd actually said it before he slapped a hand over his mouth.

The bully in me delighted in this crap. "Has your hopeful little dick suddenly made you grow the pair of balls I'm about to rip off and shove up your ass?"

A pencil smacked my face seconds before Lola did the unthinkable. "Hendrix Jethro Hunt!"

The entire class fell silent. And that little plume of rage that had been building in my chest ever since I saw the words, I miss you, too, on that treehouse wall ignited into a full-blown inferno. She knew I hated my middle name, hated it with the passion of a thousand dying suns. That right there was gloves off, no holds barred.

"Oh, you did fucking not!"

A flicker of pride lit up her eyes. One side of her mouth curled in a hot-as-hell-bitchy smirk right before she slowly lifted her middle finger.

Heat engulfed my face, but before I could retaliate, the classroom door banged shut.

"Why on God's green Earth are you all quiet?" Smith chucked her planner to her desk, mumbling something about Jesus before she took her seat. "Princess Leia, get that middle finger out of the air."

Lola shoved her finger just a little bit higher before facing the front of the class.

"I swear to God, woman…." I said through a clenched jaw.

"Mr. Hunt Number Two, swearing to Jesus ain't gonna do you no good. I have no doubt you deserved that nasty finger. Now face the front and hush."

But I couldn't—Lola had pissed me the hell off. I gripped the sides of my desk, glaring at her like I could make her head explode. "Hey, Lola, my-mom-didn't-give-enough-shits-about-me-to-give-me-a-middle-name Stevens, you remember how I used to say your pussy tasted so good?"

Lola's eye twitched as she turned in her desk to look at me.

Smith clapped her hands. "Uh-uh. No, sir. I know you aren't talking about eating cat in my classroom."

The rage rampaged through me, and even though what I was about to say was bullshit, I couldn't stop it. Petty word vomit spilled out of my mouth like lava. "Jessica's tastes way fucking better."

Laughter bounced around the room, and Lola's face went pussy pink. Smith clapped her hands.

Lola shouted over her. "I bet your dick tastes like all the trash you stick it in!"

Before I could respond, Smith shot across the room and whacked me on the back of the head.

"You're gonna sit your trash-flavored self out in the hall and write out, ‘I won't talk about eating no cats in Miss Smith's class' one-hundred times."

"Or maybe it should be that he won't talk about trash diving in Jessica's open bin?" Lola said.

A few snorts of laughter echoed around the room before they cut off.

The hell would I let her get one up on me. "How about I beat one off on your face and let you see how it tastes."

"Enough!" Smith grabbed me by the ear, hauling me to my feet like the Incredible Hulk fueled by vodka.

"Damn, Miss Smith," I fought free of her hold. "You're strong for a drunk."

I could almost see the steam swirling from the top of her head.

"Get your nasty, X-rated self on down to Principal Brown's." She shoved me toward the door. "‘Cause if you don't get out my classroom, there ain't gonna be a wheel for Jesus to take."

She went back to her desk, scribbled out a detention slip, then slapped it into my waiting palm. I'd been through this drill a thousand times before.

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said.

She glared at me before I turned to leave.

At least I didn't have to sit through that stupid class. Who in Dayton needs biology? I stared down at the pink slip on my way through the empty halls. Hendrix Hunt—disrupting class by talking about eating cats.

God, Brown was going to love this.

The receptionist glanced up from behind the counter when I stepped into the office, rolling her eyes behind her glasses. "Have a nice summer, Mr. Hunt?"

"I stayed in this hellhole." I scribbled my name on the sign-in sheet. "What do you think?"

She nodded toward the two worn chairs outside of Brown's closed door. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you on the second day of school."

"He should expect nothing less."

It wasn't two minutes after I fell into the chair that the office door swung open, and Lola came in, signing her name to the ledger. Her gaze shifted to me before she took the seat beside me. Couldn't escape her even in the principal's office.

"This is your fault," she mumbled.

My fault. "Like I made you say any of that shit." I huffed, staring straight ahead at the half-filled sports trophy case. "Fucking Jethro…" I hated her. Hated her on so many Medusa-laden levels.

"You deserved it. You were being a dick to Kyle."

"You were being a dick to Kyle," I mocked in a high-pitched voice. "I'm always a dick to Kyle. You're just all sensitive now because you're evidently banging that sack of shit."

"Says the guy banging Jessica Masters."

Oh, she didn't deny it. My jaw set, my leg bounced, and I told myself it didn't matter. I loathed her. I couldn't care who she screwed, but I sure as hell could push her buttons.

"I banged Jessica." My gaze met hers. I fought that sick feeling rising in my chest when I thought of what Lola and I used to be to each other. Used to, until she screwed it all up. "I only pussy slam a girl once. The line is just too long for repeats."

Her lip curled, her disgusted gaze raking over me like I was a diseased rag. "You're gross."

I pressed back in the chair, trying to ignore her. But then she crossed her legs.

The hem of her shirt lifted, exposing more of her tanned leg. I knew just how good those thighs felt wrapped around my head, my tongue in her pussy, and the thought that there was the smallest chance Kyle might now be the one ripping off her clothes — or any guy for that matter—I couldn't stand it.

My knee bounced harder. "Does he mouth breath all over your pussy like Darth Vader?" Like Kyle would know what to do with a pussy if it handed him a diagrammed how-to manual.

"Why do you care? You hate me."She was right, I did, and I shouldn't care.

"You earned every bit of that hate, Lola Stevens."

Brown's door creaked open. I got up, and just before I ducked into the office, I turned to Lola and mouthed Fuck You, Medusa .

Late afternoon sun spilled through the living room windows, casting shadows over the stained carpet. Wolf came out of my kitchen with a bag of Doritos. "I'm proud of you for waiting until the second day to get detention."

"What can I say?" I shot Bellamy's avatar. Blood splattered the screen, and the digital soldier dropped to the desert ground. "I've grown over the summer."

Bellamy chucked his controller to the couch. "Forgot to tell you. I saw She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named' waiting tables at The Squealing Hog yesterday."

"Congratu-fucking-lations." I glanced at the clock, then pushed off the sofa, gathering the empty cans littering the coffee table.

"Does he sound like a little butthurt bitch to you, Wolf?"

I turned and hurled a crumpled can at Bellamy. "I don't give a corn-riddled shit about what she does." Unless it was banging Kyle. Or any guy.

"Unless it's stealing tampons from Bullseye." Wolf took the joint from behind his ear and placed it to his lips, jerking his chin toward me. "Casanova here helped her steal them the other day."

"Man, I didn't help her—"

"Glass-eyed Gerald would have totally busted her. You told her, and I quote, ‘any idiot knows you take stuff out of the box.'"

Bellamy grinned. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Can't wait to tell Zepp about this shit when he gets out of jail."

I wanted to launch a fist into Wolf's face. "I made fun of her. How is that helping?"

"Hendrix, you make fun of people by shitting on their cars."

Mumbling, I took the trash into the kitchen, then rummaged through the cabinets for a can of air freshener. That girl was supposed to be here in ten minutes to look at the room. It didn't need to reek of weed.

I went back into the living room and sprayed the air freshener. "There has to be honor among thieves, dipshits." A potent mist of Pine Mountain Bouquet blanketed the air.

Wolf blew a cloud of smoke from his lips and passed the joint to Bellamy. "A butthurt bitch acting like Mary Poppins."

That was it. I kicked the footstool of the recliner, nearly catapulting him into the floor. "That girl's coming to look at the room in half an hour. Girls like houses to smell clean."

Bellamy coughed from the sofa, waving a hand in front of his face. "So, you're making the place smell like pine trees and weed?"

I took the ashtray filled with half-smoked roaches and dumped it in the now-empty bag of Doritos.

"Dude…" Wolf tossed his phone to me, and I caught it against my chest. "She's totally choking on his light saber."

StarWarsKyleOB1' s InstaPic account was pulled up on the screen. Just about every post over the past few weeks were pictures of him and Lola. The most recent was a selfie of Kyle with his arm around her, his sweaty hand a half-grab away from her tit. And that infuriated me.

Bellamy leaned over, snorted, then clapped a hand on my shoulder. "She's banging him, man."

I'd screwed my way through more nameless girls than I wanted to admit, which meant the fact that I cared what she did made me a hypocrite. But the sick part of it was that every girl I brought home made me hate myself a little more when all it was supposed to do was make me forget.

"I bet he purrs like Chewbacca when he comes." Wolf cackled, spitting out clouds of smoke.

I stared at the screen, my brain trying to melt at the idea of his scrawny ass thrusting on top of her, erasing every bit of me. "That motherfucker better get on there and start asking for thoughts and prayers."

I opened messenger, stamping my fingers over the keyboard on my screen: If you put your Skeletor hands on her again, I'm going to take your inhaler and shove it up your ass until your lungs don't need help breathing.

I waited two seconds before tacking on:

I swear, Kyle. You so much as think of sticking your pink, unused dick in her, and I'll come over to your house, shit on your front step, then smear your face in it before I spoon-feed you the rest.

Wolf's laughter cut off. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stay out of this, Wolf."

He pushed out of the recliner. "Don't be commenting from my account." Then he moved to snatch the phone, but I leaped up from the sofa like a spider monkey and dodged him.

"Fuck off."

This was what that girl had reduced me to—an InstaPic warrior, threatening to shove anaphylactics up a Star War s fanatic's ass. His phone dinged.

When I glanced down at the message, it felt like my head might explode.

I know that's you, Hendrix. Leave Kyle alone. Attached to that message was a selfie of Lola—on Kyle's motherfucking couch, in her short blue jean shorts, flipping me off. Holy shit. My ex-girlfriend was into the guy who cried anytime the teacher turned the lights off for quiet time in third grade. The guy who had a panic attack and threw up when we went on a field trip to the crappy Dayton Zoo and one of the employees passed around a green garden snake.

Me: Give the phone back to dicksneeze, Lola. Let the nerd fight his own battles.

Just as I went to type out another message, a pop-up appeared on the screen. StarWarsKyle0b1 has blocked you .

Oh, hell no. I chucked Wolf's phone down, grabbed my own phone, and pulled up Kyle's account to find I was blocked there, too.

Blocked? She blocked Wolf and me? On Kyle's account. Like she was his protector. His Obi-wan. His Mandalorian. His what-the-fuckever Star Wars bullshit would equate to Kyle being a sack of shit I now wanted to choke.

I pocketed my phone, then went to the kitchen for a bag of chips. Maybe if I choked, it would stop the dumb, pussy-ass heartache tightening my chest.

I carried the snack back into the living room, swiping a greasy hand over my shirt before grabbing the controller.

Just as we started the game, the TV cut off and the motor to the box fan silenced, the blades slowing to a stop.

"Dude," Wolf said. "Your power is out."

My eye twitched. "No shit, gremlin-faced genius!" I threw the controller to the couch.Then dragged my hands through my hair.

Had I not spent the twenty bucks on the gas to burn that treehouse to the ground the other day, I would have had enough to pay my power bill today. But no. Of course, I had to burn the stupid thing down, and now— Now I couldn't even charge my phone or cool my balls with my fan.

Fuck Lola Stevens. Fuck Kyle Jones. Fuck everything!

I was tempted to go take a shit on my own porch because I was that pissed at myself.And if that girl didn't end up renting the spare room, I just might.