Brax doesn’t get a chance to answer. "I don't care what you do with her," I say, interrupting them with a shake of my head. "If she threatens the balance—or our fucking authority—deal with her as you see fit."
"And what if we can't handle her?" Abel asks, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
I arch my brow at that. "You really think you can't?"
He rolls his eyes. "Of course not. I'm just saying … what if?"
I grin and put a hand under my jaw to crack my neck. "Then I'll be the one to fucking deal with her, and make no mistake, Abel." I turn and include Braxton in my look as well. “I won't be as nice as you two. So, you better get your rocks off with the girl first before I get ahold of her." I stand up from the table, shoving my chair back as I reach for my bag. "Invite her to the party," I tell them. "And I'll make sure she's fairly warned."
8
Avalon
"Are you out of your fucking mind?"
I slip the dollar store shades off my eyes and look up to the figure hovering over me as I lay stretched out on the front lawn of the dorm. "Nice to see you too, Ry," I say absently before sliding them back over my eyes and spreading back out. “But we really need to stop meeting like this. Can you move? You’re blocking the sun.”
In another second, her fingers brush against my temple as she rips my sunglasses from my eyes. "You have to be absolutely deranged," she continues, holding them above my head as she glares down at me. "Fucking insane. There’s no other reason for you to piss off the worst of the worst mere days after I specifically told you not to!"
I sigh right before I kick my feet out, sending her legs collapsing out from beneath her and watch as she tumbles to the grass at my side. Snagging the dropped sunglasses, I settle them back over my eyes.
"If you've got something important to say, say it, or fuck off," I say around a yawn. “You’re ruining my good mood.”
Surprisingly, Rylie doesn't jump up and scream at me or try to hit me. She remains flat on the ground and throws an arm over her face to block out the bright rays of sunlight. "What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" she mutters. "Who did I kill in a past life? Were they really that important for me to receive this divine punishment?" I’m not unused to people referring to my presence as a punishment, but still, her dramatics make me chuckle. When I do, it earns me a dark glare as she lifts her forearm away from her face and growls at me. "I'm serious," she snaps. "If they moved people in the Havers dorm, I'd fucking ask for a transfer right fucking now because of you."
I shrug. "Don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds like a ‘you’ problem and not so much of a ‘me’ problem. Therefore, I don’t really give a shit.”
"You're on lockdown," she says.
Frowning, I lift up on my elbows and stare in her general direction. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, anyway?”
"It means you're banned," she huffs out. "No one is allowed to talk to you. No one is allowed near you. And by now, everyone knows that the chick who rejected and tried to humiliate Abel Frazier is my roommate.”
Ahhh, I think. Social suicide. Or rather, social homicide courtesy of a fuckboy with nothing better to do. Oh well. Sucked to suck, I guess. "I'm sure you'll be just fine," I offer placatingly, even though I'm kinda enjoying the growls of irritation coming from her. Fumbling absently for my bag, I reach inside and find the bottle I'd stored in there earlier. I take a sip and then toss it her way. "Here, this might help."
Face devoid of any emotion, she sits up, pops the cap of the water bottle, and puts it to her lips. One swallow later, her eyes widen and she spews every drop she still has in her mouth onto the grass, gasping as she stares from the crinkled plastic to me. "This is fucking vodka!" she shrieks.
I lift one shoulder and let it fall as I take the bottle back. "You looked like you could use something to help you chillax," I say with a grin.
"Are you really that unconcerned about what's happening to you?" She sounds shocked. “Like really?”
I stuff the now capped bottle into my bag and get to my feet. "The bigger question," I say pointedly, "is why do you seem to care?"
Rylie's cheeks tighten and she scrambles to get to her feet as well. The desire not to be on a lower standing is ingrained within her just as much as it is with me. "I don't care," she says through clenched teeth, "but whatever happens now is going to fall back on me."
I roll my eyes and slide my arms through the loops of my pack. "Don't worry about it," I say, grinning again when she growls at me. "Seriously. The more you give a shit about whatever fuckboy one and fuckboy two do, the more power you give them."
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Did you just call Abel Frazier and Braxton Smalls … fuckboys?” she asks, astounded.
I shrug. “I call it like it is.”
She shakes her head violently. “They're—”
I cut her off, irritated. I can only guess what her next words were about to be. "Just boys," I snap, "and they have no idea how the real world works. They don't get their hands dirty. They probably haven’t ever had to make their own fucking beds a day in their life. They're pretty little princes who have no clue what it's like to fight and scrounge for a living."
The thought sparks an even deeper anger inside of me. I stride forward until I’m in her face.
“So, fuck them if they think they can just demand something and expect me to give it to them. I’m no one’s bitch.” I take a deep breath. “And I don't know about you, but they haven't earned my fucking respect and I'll be damned if I give it out like free candy. There's already enough this world expects to take from me.”
She gapes at me, but I said what I said and I’m not taking that shit back. It’s the truth.
Leaving her behind on the lawn, I turn and stomp towards the front of the dorm, swiping my card along the reader as I yank the door open and move towards the stairs. I drop my shit off in the room, kicking it under the bed as I grab my wallet, keys, and cell phone, depositing them all into my pockets and bra as I catch the door before it even fully closes, and pull it shut behind me on my way back out.
My feet hit the pavement, and I head for Ms. Bairns's office. Across campus, of course. It would be the furthest building. The walk, though, is long enough to calm the itch that still lingers in me. I really need to hit someone or go cliff diving—something to keep me from being too dangerous. It was easy enough to get rid of this feeling back in Plexton. Sex sometimes worked. So did getting into a fight with a random stranger. So did stealing my neighbor’s dirt bike and driving it down through the mud of the local creek bed, getting as close to the edge of the ravine as possible without truly falling over.
Where some people avoid danger, I find that I don’t just enjoy it, I need it. It’s the rush of survival, plain and simple. Everyone’s an addict—my mother, the students here at Eastpoint, and even me. Where they like drugs and money, I crave chaos. And if I don't take care of this hunger soon, it won't be good for anyone—least of all me.