“Dolly?” my mom snaps.
I blink, forcing her into focus. “Yes?”
“Are you insane?”
“Probably.”
She frowns and gets out of bed. I have to say at thirty-seven she still has a great body. I hope mine stays as good as hers. Maybe it’s because she was a stripper. Seriously, she’s doesn’t have an ounce of cellulite.
She pulls on a short pink robe and lights up a cigarette. “I’ll take you. Give me a moment to get dressed.” She goes to turn, but I pick up my backpack. “He’s already here,” I say. “I wanted to let you know I’m off.”
“Wait.” She reaches for me, causing me to veer back. “Listen. This is not a joke, Dolly. You can’t fuck around here. Like if Edge finds out that you are doing this, it could be bad.” The smoke swirls around her face.
“Well, Mom, I don’t know if you know this, but I caught him with a disgusting skank so I’m not his girl anymore.” I take a breath. My face warms at those words, yet I try to convince myself that I’m okay.
I toss my hair back. “I like Troy. He’s a nice guy who cares about me.” The traitorous sting of tears makes me look up at the ceiling. It’s yellow from too much smoke.
“Okay.”
I look at her. “What?”
“I said okay.” She takes a drag and blows smoke into the air. “I tried to warn you. You want to learn the hard way… well, the hard way it will be.” And before I can say anything to defend my feelings, she slams the bathroom door.
“Perfect.” I spin and grab my phone. I’ve checked it a hundred times already. Why hasn’t he called? He should be texting… anything. The silence has me falter for a second. It’s almost like if I don’t voice it and he doesn’t voice it, my brain will think it didn’t happen.
But it did, and I’m not quite sure how to deal with my aching heart. It’s almost as if it’s been ripped out of me, yet I still breathe and walk. I square my shoulders and shut the front door wondering why I bother locking it. Like anyone is going to break in. A blue BMW idles at the curb looking out of place.
Troy got a Beamer for his birthday. I got a crappy flip phone.
Before I can reach for the door handle, he hops out, smiling so cheerfully I have to look away as I grind my teeth.
“Good morning, Doll.” His gelled-back hair and his Drakkar Noir cologne almost make me gag.
“Hi,” I croak. “Thanks for the ride.” I spit it out fast so I can breathe in fresh air.
“I’ll pick you up every day if you’ll let me.” He smiles again, his white teeth so perfect I wonder if he has veneers. God, I’m a bitch. He’s being the sweetest and all I’m doing is mentally making fun of him.
Smoke and cinnamon, that’s what I need to smell. It’s like I can’t help but compare Edge’s scent, which belongs only to him, to…
I smile back. It’s the least I can do as I slide into his all-black interior. The car smells like him, and I wonder if rolling the window down would be too obvious. Opening one of the zippered pockets in my backpack, I pull out a pack of Big Red gum.
“Hey, can I have one?” He leans over and I shrink back. This was another one of my shitty ideas. I should have called Morgan to pick me up. I hate her, but it’s better than having to share a space and gum with Troy.
“Sure.” I toss it at him, causing him to frown for a second then smile again as he starts the car.
He turns up Coldplay and peels out. I’m tempted to roll my eyes but stare out the window watching my neighborhood’s shitty houses pass by. I must be in shock—for the first time in my life I don’t care what he thinks.
I glance over at him as he shakes his head. One of my neighbors walks past in ratty jeans, a long beard, and a tattooed body.
“I can’t believe you’re part of a motorcycle gang.”
“Club. It’s not a gang. And I’m not,” I snip.
He looks over at me, and I’m almost ready to defend the club when he bursts into song. I blink at him. Are you kidding me?
He’s not holding back. Holy shit… he’s belting it out.
I have to bite my lip and look out the window. This is freaking pathetic. I’m so fucked. I wanted to like him, I desperately need to like him, but with the cologne, teeth, and fucking singing, I’m stunned. Oh my God, what is happening?
“Can I turn down Coldplay for a second?” I don’t wait for him to turn it off. I’m not a big fan of Coldplay or background noise and his singing might have scarred me for life.
“Um, dude… this is my car. But for you”—he reaches over and puts his large hand on my leg—“you can do whatever you like.” I look down at his hand and almost say, “Don’t call me dude,” but whatever. I cross my leg, causing his hand to slide off awkwardly.
Then I clear my throat. “I’ve decided to go to Homecoming with you, and I broke up with Edge.” My voice cracks and I bite my bottom lip.
“Fuck yes.” He pounds the top of the car. “It’s about time, Doll. Do you need money for a dress? I’m wearing white and red.”
I’m about to scream, If you call me dude or Doll one more time I won’t be held responsible for my actions. Instead, I take a breath and look down at my nails, which I painted lavender this morning after I scrubbed all of Crystal’s blood from underneath them.
I’m too tired to care that he insulted me by saying I’m poor. I’m more aggravated that he took my gum and calls me Doll, which reminds me of Edge, than him telling me to get a dress that matches his outfit and he’ll pay for it.
I give him a fake smile and say, “I’m fine. Thanks for telling me your colors.” He swerves into the school parking lot.
“No problem.”
This time, I’m quicker than he is and I bolt from the car, taking a huge drag of fresh air.
“I’ll walk you to your locker,” he grumbles.
“Um well… I have to meet Morgan. I’ll see you in History.” I feel like a racehorse at the gate waiting for it to open so I can bolt.
He cocks his head. “Do I scare you?”
“No.” What a weird thing to say. This guy is an idiot. But if Edge can fuck around, then I guess I need to make sure he sees that I’m great without him. And unfortunately for me, Troy is the easiest way to hurt him.
I flip my hair over my shoulder and walk toward my locker. I don’t look back because I can sense him staring at me. Turning the corner, I move around the flood of feet and chatter in the hallway. Hopefully I can get to my locker and not have to talk to anyone.
I feel him before I see him and my heart starts racing. As I move closer, it’s all I can do not to throw myself into his arms and beg him to tell me it was all a bad dream. His dark auburn hair is perfect in an I-don’t-give-a-shit way. And oh God, he smells like clean, fresh, spicy cinnamon. My eyes are killing me and I wish I could close them, cuddle in his arms, and simply smell him. Maybe then Troy’s massive amount of cologne would not still haunt me.
Edge leans on the end of the lockers with his arms crossed, his biceps on show. Tattoos cover his right arm and a few on his left. Without a doubt, he’s the most beautiful guy, and I won’t ever get over him.