“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard. I try not to notice how his hands are so big they circle my entire waist, how warm they feel through the thin fabric of my undershirt, below the cropped sweatshirt, or how close he’s standing, so I can feel his jeans graze against my ass.
He boosts me up, and I scold myself for getting distracted. I get my boots on his shoulders and brace my hands against the car for balance. His hands fall on the backs of my calves, his touch warm against my skin on the cool night. Ignoring the badly timed impulses in my body, I grab the top of the car and pull myself up. It’s not hard, but I scrape my knees getting up. That’s what I get for not taking the time to change into jeans.
He tosses a few colors up, then goes to the next car and starts defacing Zephyr’s art. I bite back the urge to tell him to stop, that you can’t just paint over another artist’s work, but he’s not doing art and obviously doesn’t give a fuck. He’s just here to deface something, to write “FUCK YOU” in giant black letters over the complex and layered beauty that Zephyr Hertz put on an ugly, rusted train car. He took something ugly and barren, and gave you something to look at while it went by, so you don’t even notice the desolate metal.
For some reason, it makes me think of Colt’s words again. These guys destroy lives. Do they really care if they’re fucking up something beautiful? Of course not. They’d probably rather do that than paint curse words on blank canvas.
But then there’s Baron, making something instead of destroying it.
“I want up there, too,” he says, returning from behind the cars. Royal boosts him up, and he lies on the side with me, reaching down with his can. For a few minutes, we work in silence.
“So, you don’t like sex,” he says after a while.
I laugh and shake my head. “I like sex fine,” I say.
“Not a word I’d use to describe sex.”
I think of him fucking some girl while he drank a beer. Seems like the exact word he’d use to describe it.
“I like sex as much as the next girl,” I say.
“With guys?” he presses.
“With anyone,” I say. “I just think dick is overrated.”
“You hear that?” Duke yells, howling with laughter. “The dyke thinks dick is overrated!”
“I’m not a dyke,” I say. “I’m attracted to guys.”
“Maybe you just haven’t had the right dick,” Baron says.
“She’s obviously never had Dolce dick,” Duke says, smashing a beer bottle against the car we’re on. Foam and glass sprays everywhere, splattering my hands as glass shards pelt my skin.
“I thinkyou’rethe Dolce dick,” I say, glaring at him.
“Hey,” Royal growls. “I told you not to come down here, Cherry Pie. You don’t have to be here.”
“And he doesn’t have to keep harassing me,” I say.
We glare at each other.
I’m the one who breaks first. I sigh and sit up. “Look, you want to show me you’re nasty boys with no respect for women, I get it. It’s not like I’ve never heard that shit before. It doesn’t bother me. But if you’re going to come at me, then yeah, I’m going to defend myself.”
“He wasn’t coming at you,” Royal says. “He just said you’d never fucked a Dolce, which is a fact.”
“Fine,” I say. “But I’m not going to sit here like some meek little lamb while someone talks shit about me. If you dish it out, you should be man enough to take it when someone gives it back.”
“Now who’s talking shit about someone,” Duke says, coming up beside Royal. “Saying I’m not man enough? Did I say you weren’t woman enough to take the gang bang we’re about to have with your tight little ass?”
“That,” I say, glaring at Royal and gesturing to his brother. “Fine, he’s not talking shit about me. He’s just constantly threatening to rape me. You think I’m going to just sit here and take that shit without a word?”
“He’s kidding,” Baron says. “Have a sense of humor.”
“Fine, let’s all have a sense of humor. Speaking of, you know what would be really funny? If I called my gangster friends on my street, and they all showed up and rapedyourrich asses to teach you a lesson about walking onto their turf like you own it just because you own the rest of the town. Here, let me get my phone out and call them right now. It’ssomuch funnier if they’re here in person, surrounding you and outnumbering you three-to-one, so you know it’s actually a very real possibility, while they joke about it.”
They’re all staring at me when I finish. Okay, so maybe I ranted a little too hard there. I take a deep breath and give Baron my sweetest smile. “Still funny?”
“That’s not the same,” Duke says. “You have sex with dudes all the time.”