Neek, huh.
My muscles lock when the thought is echoed by the last fucking voice I want to hear.
“Neek, huh.”
I glare after her, taking my time to whirl around and face the little bitch behind me.
I step into his space and he doesn’t back away.
“I see you decided to get her ready for me after all.” His lip curls.
“Touch her while she’s mine and I’ll break your fucking fingers. Then you really won’t be catching shit, but hey, at least you’ll have a solid excuse to run home with.”
Alex shoves me, and I let him, stumbling back a few steps.
I smirk, tip my chin and point at his bitch ass. “Catch you later, Hammons. I’ll save a seat for you at breakfast, huh?”
“We’ll see about that.” His eyes harden.
My phone rings again, and a sinister smirk covers his face.
“Better get that, Sykes. Might be trouble at home.”
My jaw clenches, and I reach out, gripping him by the collar and tugging him in. “Watch yourself, Alex. If you haven’t noticed, I’m done with your bullshit. Done. You’re not untouchable, even though you think you are, so go ahead, play your fucking game, I’ll be here playing it better.” I shove off him, and he stumbles, hitting his back against the wall. “Tell your pops I said hi, motherfucker.”
I take a few backward steps before turning and heading for my room.
Fuck him.
I’ve just got the door closed and am tugging off my shirt when my phone rings again, but I ignore it and dial my mom instead.
As I figured, she sleeps through the call.
I toss it on the dresser where it’ll stay the rest of the night and run my hands down my face.
This is what he wants, me to stress the entire fucking weekend, to ruin any chill time I might have. All I wanted was a damn day to forget, but I guess that was too much to ask.
Demi said I come off cold and careless.
I’m not.
I don’t speak because my thoughts are constantly racing, my fucked-up reality sitting at the forefront of my mind at all times.
I work my ass off at sports to try and get picked up by a college team, even though I likely can’t accept any offer that may come in.
If I go, who stays here to watch after my mom?
I can’t leave her alone, my dad is already slowly killing her, and she refuses to see it, refuses to let him go even though he has a new home and wife and preferred son, a better version of me, as he loves to say.
I drop back on my mattress, staring up at the cracked ceiling.
Demi and her friend’s loud laughter floats beneath the adjoining door of our rooms and despite my shitty fucking mood, the corner of my lip tips up.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and let it out.
Fuck it.
I’m taking a few more hours, shoving everything to the back of my mind, and dealing with the damage of it all later.Krista fans her face, nodding toward the tables, so we all step off the dance floor for a quick break so they can catch their breath.
She steers us where the guys are huddled near the open bar.
Krista drops onto Trent’s lap, the others grabbing an open seat around him while I hop up, sitting on the edge of the table.
“Damn, Dem. You’ve got Krista breathing all hard,” Trent jokes.
“You try keeping up with her ass out there and look at Carley,” Krista says. “She’s sweating more than I am.”
“I’m a sweater, asshole, and you know I can outrun you,” Carley throws back.
“True, but still.” Krista laughs, downing half a water bottle before sipping on Trent’s drink.
“Dude, Nico is the fastest on the team, too.” Macy gasps, glancing his way. “You guys could prolly go all night if you tried.”
My mouth drops open, but then Nico is suddenly in front of me, pushing my knees open so he can slide between them. I stare, unmoving and a little buzzed, as his fingers come up to lift my chin.
“Stamina is key,” he says, all deep and gravelly like. “Ain’t it, baby?”
My muscles tighten unexpectedly, and I have to remind myself to nod.
It’s delayed and beyond obvious.
The chuckles from around the table have my hand coming up to push his away, and a breathy laugh escapes me.
“Let’s go back out there, but with the boys. My dad told them to pull the plug at one.” Krista hops up.
The rest of the group stands, and they all rush off, but Nico continues to block me in, his attention on their retreating bodies before it moves back to me.
“Not a sex kitten, she said,” he says with a heavy rasp. “Gotta tell you, if hip-hop is your jam, club shit is your spirit. Not sure how I missed that.”