Chapter 18 #2
“I’m Scarlett’s husband,” he adds as my mother finally realizes how many large men she’s surrounded by.
Dangerous men. I could snap my fingers and she’d be dead.
They’d take her away for me and kill her, bury her where she’d never be found.
But I doubt it’ll come to that. Geneva doesn’t have as much backbone as Alexis did.
She takes his number and then flees, getting in a car I’ve never seen before, and taking off.
I know from my girls that Mom’s been driving her new beau’s 1992 Geo Metro since before the fire.
Practically living at his apartment. Good for her.
Hope this dude’s less shitty than all the others she’s dated.
I put my hands together in a prayer position, rubbing them as I bend forward, offering up my most sincere prayers to the universe at large. Eyes squeezed shut. Completely earnest. Completely full of shit.
“Please let my mom’s new boyfriend be an upstanding guy who doesn’t steal all her money.
Amen.” I shake my hands out, crack my eyes, and catch sight of my left hand in the white winter sunshine.
The black ink of my wedding band is sharp and unsettling.
Always a reminder that we are but one step from the grave.
I stand up straight, attacking Alexei’s back before he can move. I throw my arms around him, like some senior girl from Prescott High. It’s weird, NGL. This seems to be what I want to do when I’m around him, hug him like this. It’s disgusting.
“That was badass. Good work. For the bargain price of eight-thou, I don’t have to deal with that bitch for at least a week or two.” I laugh, and it’s very derisive, very cutting. Just like my shirt. The top button’s come undone, revealing the lacy black bra underneath.
“I don’t know if I like you flashing your lingerie around the school.” Widow is chewing gum, staring at me like he’s really mad about it. Genuinely thinks he’s in the right here.
“Dude. Don’t say things like that around Nisha or she’ll cut you.
Literally. She’ll cut you and I’ll have to let her because you’ll have deserved it.
” I release Alexei from his impromptu hug, catching sight of Ash in his black cashmere sweater.
He’s wearing expensive wide-legged black pants with a sharp crease down the center.
On his feet, bright red kicks. Pricey ones.
He’s in the process of squatting down on the sidewalk, holding out his fingers for a stray cat.
Whoa. I’m struck. He let Alexei and me handle the Geneva situation because he knew we didn’t need my mom cut down with a samurai sword in front of the school. Aww. It’s so fucking hot when someone controls their homicidal tendencies for you. Kakkoii.
“Oh, okay. Gotcha.” Widow slips out of that fucking sherpa denim jacket again, the one he stole back from me stealing it back and…
whatever the chain of command has been. Then he takes off his shirt, right there in front of a good two dozen of my girls that are waiting on the steps.
That’s not much of a problem. It’s the other girls watching him from the sidewalk, from the windows of the school, perched on the top of the old Loggers sign and smoking cigarettes.
Widow asks Alexei for a wipe and makes this big show out of cleaning a ‘stain’ before declaring the shirt unsavable, throwing it inside the Stingray (Alexei hates this), and slipping the jacket back on.
It gapes open in the front, showing off his nipples and all the muscles leading down to his navel.
“I was right,” Bohnes whispers from my left, his breath hot against the side of my neck, his hand cold as he wraps his fingers around the same spot where Geneva touched me, like he’s trying to erase her from my skin. “You started your period today. Congratulations, you’re a woman now.”
I laugh at that, but only for a second. Then I remember that I’m wearing these really great cream-colored trousers, and—
I’ve bled through my pants.
“Shit, fuck,” I curse, realizing that the wet sensation between my legs is not from the boys (like it usually is).
“You see this?” I ask Bohnes, playing with the ends of my red silk neck scarf.
It matches the six inch heels that I just had to wear because the outfit wasn’t slutty enough without them.
“My ensemble is ruined. Without the pants, none of it is right.”
“But the scarf matches the blood.” Bohnes curls his lip, revealing his pretty white teeth as he leers menacingly at me. “If anything, it enhances the outfit.”
“I’m going to stab you.” It’s said with affection and absolutely no heat. I’m too busy staring at my fingertips, wet with blood because I made the mistake of reaching back to check the status of my pants. I haven’t just bled through. I have murdered these pants. Like I murdered Polina last night.
Bohnes slips out of his hoodie—which I’ve rarely seen him do in public—and then he ties it around my waist.
“I’d love to fuck all that blood out of you later,” he growls into my ear, like a motherfucking ghoul.
“Just when I was going to call you sweet,” I murmur, catching Alexei’s gaze and wondering what his thoughts are on this. Germaphobe plus me being on the rag. He could freak out. Or love it. “You alright there, hubby? Not gonna faint or anything?”
“If it’s your blood, it’s different,” Alexei says with an insouciant, cool confidence. His hands are shaking though, his gaze latched to the stain on my pants. His pupils are humongous. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was high.
“You’re on your period?” Widow asks, like he’s slightly disappointed. This shirtless motherfucker with his perfect haircut. He’s already recruited Jack, Treasure’s fuckboy, to his own mini crew. Smart choice. “Bummer.”
“I’m pleased to not be pregnant,” I remind him. Aunt Flo has the worst timing, but I’m glad she’s here. I can still murder Chet and frame Jonas, even with period cramps.
Ash appears beside me, offering up a tampon from his pocket.
I give him a look, thinking of that night we fucked in the Flesh and the Devil Music Hall while Reefer Madness played.
We shouldn’t have done that. It was reckless.
Tampons were involved then, too, for the mess. I’m not surprised he has some on him.
“Thanks, babe.” I take it and put it in my pocket, meeting those big dark eyes of his with the flicker of that naughty memory in my own.
Ash can tell I’m up to no good, tossing a come-hither smile back at me.
I throw my purse at Widow as I pass him and he fucking catches it. “Simp,” I taunt as I walk by.
“You’re literally bleeding through your pants. Me holding your purse so you can wash up makes me a simp?” he replies, smooth as always. Dickhead. I ignore him in favor of joining up with Nisha at the top of the stairs.
“Where’s Basti?” I ask her and she sighs, gesturing in the direction of a random classroom.
“He’s having a thing about Lemon. She always wanted to be Snow Queen.”
Ah. Right.
Our school’s only version of an actual, legit activity is coming up.
Snow Day, like the Prescott version of a winter formal (except that cocaine is traditionally involved in ours).
There’s a girl voted for every year, sort of like a homecoming queen or prom queen or something.
Usually, it’s the meanest, baddest bitch in the entire school.
Baby (the owner of Maverick the Nightmare, from the sign) won it, back in the day.
For sure I’d win the crown this year, if we’re even taking a vote.
That requires there being some sort of organization.
If the students don’t do it, it won’t get done.
Meaning, if my crew doesn’t do it, it won’t get done.
I don’t give a single fuck about any of that shit.
A dagger of pain knifes me in the chest.
I freeze up right there in the hallway and it hits me all over again.
I think I’m so cool, but when I love someone, I love them so hard that it destroys me.
Lemon really did dream of being Snow Queen.
If she were still alive, I would’ve organized the vote and encouraged the crew to vote for her.
Won a fancy tiara for her on the track from some Oak Valley bitch and then watched her strut around with a stolen bouquet.
Alexis was the Snow Queen during her senior year.
That’s so…wrong.
“Scarlett.” Nisha gestures at my crotch, and I groan as I realize it’s getting worse. Fuck. What am I even doing? “Big period feelings?” she asks me as we walk, trying to make a joke out of it. She’s feeling them, too, though, and she’s definitely not worshipping at the blood moon tonight.
“Snow Day, our last day in this hellhole.” I kick the trash can with my high heel as I walk by and wink menacingly at Officer Semen-Sommelier.
He knows I’m watching his perverted ass.
Maybe I should just kill him? No. No. I knock myself in the side of the head to jog some sense into my homicidal brain.
“I will not be sad to say sayonara to this dump.”
Nisha trails behind me into the women’s bathroom and kicks everyone else out. She goes for the door, trying to block it when Bohnes attempts to come in.
“Do not challenge me today, Miss Webber,” he hisses as I roll my eyes, moving over to the door and giving him a look.
You are not the boss: I am. It’s going to take a lifetime of vigilance to hold my position over Kellin Bohnes.
I’m okay with that. Like Widow, these types of challenges keep me on my feet.
“Be so for real right now, Kellin. Enjoy the mystery.”
We stare at each other and then I slam the door shut and lock it, moving over to the sink and taking Bohnes’ hoodie off my waist with a smile.
That undead piece of shit. I tug the emergency tampon from my pocket and squeeze it.
That pussy-lover Ash deserves his own cat.
Widow, holding my purse. Alexei, throwing the weight of his family name in my mom’s face.