“That leaves Royal with… hole number three!” Duke sings out, like he’s a game show announcer.
“Trust me, my pussy is hole number one,” I say, grabbing a can of paint and giving it a shake. “And you don’t win by process of elimination. You have to earn that shit.”
“Oooh, kitty’s got her claws out,” Duke mocks, stumbling over a backpack that lays on the ground at the base of the barrel.
I shrug. “Truth hurts.”
Duke chugs the rest of his beer and smashes the bottle on the ground at my feet, making me jump. He laughs and starts dancing around, singing “Truth Hurts.”
I survey their setup. Zephyr used to carry his paint in a backpack, too, but his was threadbare and leftover from elementary school, stuffed with a few colors at a time, whatever he could afford. The one lying at the base of the barrel is new, and there must be a dozen cans of all colors of paint on the barrel. I’m itching to use them. I grab another can and go to the next car, which Zephyr has already tagged, and then the next one, where I start painting. For a minute, only Duke’s obnoxious singing and the hiss of the paints fills the night. I breathe deep, not sure if I’m high from the fumes or from the freedom I find in this.
“Not bad.”
I turn to see Baron standing behind me, watching me work.
“I had a good teacher,” I say.
“Didn’t know people taught graffiti,” he says, flashing a haughty grin as he takes the other corner of the car.
“People teach art,” I answer.
“Hey, let me ask you a question,” Duke says, staggering up behind us. “If you’re the blowjob queen, why isn’t my dick in your mouth right now?”
“Because you’re a rude, sloppy drunk.”
I hear Royal chuckle from the next car over.
“Tellin’ it like it is, I see, I see,” Duke says. “In that case, you’re a rude, bitchy slut.”
“Cut it out,” Royal snaps.
“Oh, what, only you can call her that?”
I keep painting, trying not to let him ruin my mood, but his words get under my skin. I don’t know why I care, why it hurts to know Royal calls me that behind my back. He calls me a slut to my face all the time. But it still stings.
“Just shut up,” Royal says quietly.
Duke ignores him and starts in on me again. “How come you’re not giving it up yet? You been at school a month now, and you’re not even uggo. We should have fucked you by now. What’s up with that?”
“I’m just not that interested in dick,” I say. “I’ve got other stuff going on.”
“Maybe you’re just one of those who takes a little convincing, if you know what I mean. Some girls give it up easy, and some… You just gotta take it.”
“Are you a lesbian?” Baron asks, watching me with curiosity as he pauses to chew the bits of candy off the stem of his sucker.
I shoot him a look. “Just because I’m not clamoring to fuck you, I must be a lesbian?”
“He just wants to see you eat a big juicy pussy,” Duke says, laughing. “Dude, if you don’t like dick, I will totally plow a bitch while she eats you out.”
“Zero interest in that scenario,” I say, stepping back to look at Baron’s work. He’s actually doing art, and it’s not bad. He checks out mine, too. Then he holds out his hand and gives me knuckles. The good feeling comes pouring back into my chest.
“Wanna continue it up top?” Baron asks. “I’ll boost you up and hand you colors.”
“Really?” He’s strong enough that I could stand on his shoulders and tall enough to lift me up so I could reach the roof of the car and scramble up. I’ve never painted upside down before, so the idea is intriguing.
“I’ll lift her,” Royal says, coming over to join us. “I’m taller.”
Baron steps away to text someone, and Royal’s hands fall on my hips. “Ready?”