Hey, you can take the man out of the boy, but you can't take away his petulant thoughts. It's ingrained in our DNA, and make no mistake, we're not going to spout out excuses for it.
However, I will say that some guys take their lewdness a little too far, even by my standards. Instead of working up to a girl being hungry for their cock, they automatically flash that son of a bitch like it's God's gift to women. I'll be the first motherfucker to say: no, it's not, far from it.
Dicks are actually pretty fucking disgusting unless they're in their “useful” state. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. I've nicknamed it the “get fucked” state, which seems pretty self-explanatory. Otherwise, they look like shriveled up sea cucumbers, and that's just not attractive at all.
"Dude, how much longer until we're through with that class?" Easton groans, resituating himself in his pants.
I feel his pain. Fuck, we all do. There's a lot that can be said about a professional woman who doesn't care what people think and lets her girls hang free.
She's risky. Gives no fucks. She doesn't need, nor want, a man to take care of her. Our professor is the kind of woman I need in my life, instead of the suckers who cling to me in the hopes of draining me of my portion in the kingdom my dad built from the ground up.
If only I went after older women.
"Hey, maybe Leo should give that a go," I snark, laughing when he calls me an asshole and nearly pushes me into the wall.
Everyone who knows Leo knows that he has a soft spot for the cougars—the women at least a half-decade older than him. He says it's because younger girls are too immature, and I'm all too inclined to agree with him. Girls our age are immature and only care about what they can get instead of what a relationship can provide for each of us.
And Leo, he has it all down pat, too. With his scruffy jawline, piercings, and big lion tattoo on his side, he draws those older women in like a magnet. The younger women usually don't like his no-nonsense attitude and the way he needs to have verbal replies to everything. Girls can't flirt with my guy because of that. Because girls our age seem to be stuck in the hair twirling and biting their lip stage.
Sorry, ladies, but that's not attractive. It just makes you look empty-headed, boring, and immature.
Leo surprises me, though. His frown turns into a smile, "Already have. Nice, but she sounded like I was killing her when she took my dick."
"Fucking dog!" Easton barks out a laugh, shoving him.
As we take the stairs to the ground level, Zeke gets into the conversation, "Y'all coming to the game tonight?"
Zeke is a front lineman for the Golden Oaks Eagles. He’s team captain, just like he was in high school. The other team captain just so happened to graduate last year, and when Zeke came into the fold, they automatically named him captain of their team. Good thing, too. Zeke is a beast on the field.
"Yeah," I reply. "We'll be in the nosebleed section behind the panting girls and middle-aged hotties that drool all over you all."
He snorts half-smiling. "Dick." Then, when we get to the ground floor, he adds on, "Fuck. I forgot to get something out of my biochem class. I'll meet up with you all later."
"Later," we all reply in unison, watching as he jogs back up the stairs.
I bet he's going to fuck that teacher. I smile at the thought. He always has loved getting on Leo's nerves. Plus, Zeke doesn't have biochem until next semester for his science credit.
I should know because he has it with me.
"Anyone else believe that?" Easton asks, pointing back over his shoulder as we pass the main office.
I shake my head, smirking. "Not a chance."
We all break out laughing, even Leo. You'd think he's a bit perturbed that his friend is going after a piece he's been with already, and probably still is tapping, but he's not. Leo's never been like that. He doesn't get possessive over women he fucks, even if it's on the regular.
Now, the women he wines and dines on the regular? Those are the ones you don't touch. Bro code implicitly applies to them.
Making our way down the hall, we all peer at each other when a giant ruckus sounds from inside the girls’ bathroom. The very last one before you leaves the building altogether. No one would be caught dead in this building after hours, and technically, they shouldn't even be here. The only reason the guys and I are here is because the test we were taking in that English class of ours ran over.
In other words, we couldn't focus on the test due to the fact her tits were hanging in front of our faces. So, we had to stay over and finish.
Before any of us can ask, my eyes widen in their sockets when Cassandra and two of her friends, girls with names I forgot the second she told me, come stumbling out cackling like the wicked witches of GOU.
"Cass," I say, gathering her attention. Her laughter instantly cuts out, and a look of abject horror flashes through her eyes.
When she moves toward me, that's when I see it. A pair of familiar sneakers attached to two legs I’d know anywhere, lying on the bathroom floor. You can barely see them sticking out from under the stall.
My heart leaps into my throat. I push Cassandra out of the way and force my way into the bathroom, Leo and Easton right behind me. Hurrying over, I hit a thin puddle of water and nearly fall, the front of my body smacking into the stall so hard a grunt lodges in my throat.
"The fuck?" I hear Easton breathe, but I'm too frantic and laser-focused to care about anything.
Slamming open the door, I get a good look at Harloe lying on the floor. From the top of her head to her knees is soaked. The smell of vomit is strong and makes me sick to my stomach. She looks so helpless, and I can't help it when the anger I feel toward her takes a back burner to what I feel now.
Everything inside demands revenge.
I hear the clicking of heels as, no doubt, Cass comes in to inspect her handiwork. I'm too horrified to describe even adequately what I'm feeling right now. How can someone go this far to bully someone? Yes, I used hateful words and some questionable actions. But I'd never do this.
"The fuck, Cassandra?!" I bellow in rage, and drop down to my knees, gathering Harloe into my chest. Her body instantly soaks mine, but I don't care.
Fuck, seeing her so vulnerable and defenseless does something to my insides. It feels like someone is taking their fist and repeatedly ramming it into my chest. And, honestly, I don't know how to feel about that. I never expected to feel anything other than hatred for the girl in my arms.
"Guys, we need to get her to the clinic," Leo says, and I'm glad at least someone is thinking straight.
The only thing I see is my Harloe, weak and needing me to protect her. To do something I promised to do a long time ago, but have failed at horrifically because of what happened all those years ago.
Instead of being there for her, as a friend, I cut her off so completely and harshly, she had to run away to get away from all the rumors and taunts she knew were going to fly her way.
I deserted her. It wasn't the other way around.
Yes, she fucked up. Royally. But so did I. Friends first, lovers second, her tiny, angelic voice floats through my head over the pact we made when we decided to try and take our relationship to the next level.
I broke that.