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Chapter 17
Astrid
The boys aren’t giving out useful info on the Pit, so after school, I change into a T-shirt and a grubby pair of jeans and ride my bike to Weymouth. Justin terrified me, and yes, his father is probably a scary man, but I need cash fast. I’m on the shit list after Nova’s arrest. Even Derick has stopped answering my texts. I’m poison even though the raid wasn’t my fault. I no longer belong at Monarch, so I’m the scapegoat. It’s no secret anymore that I attend Stonehaven. I’ve got no one left to cover my back.
I ride past Monarch Academy and head over to my old neighborhood to the corner store. It’s on the corner where a gas station used to be. When I was a kid, it was a 7-Eleven, but the franchise moved out. Now the store is filled with no-name brands, soda, cigarettes, and gossip. I hang out up front by the counter as the two men talk behind it. They recognize me from my building and don’t give a shit if I eavesdrop. When they mention the Pit, I step over and blatantly listen to what they have to say.
“You know about the warehouse?” The younger guy leers at my chest though it’s concealed under my puffer jacket. He used to go to Monarch. He was hot back then. His eyes eventually reach my face. “You’re interested in that?”
I tilt my head, pretending not to care but hanging on every word. “My friend is,” I reply, “She needs cash.”
They laugh at me. “Friend.” The younger guy scoffs. “Well, tell your friend that they’re looking for girls. They start lining up around seven.” His gaze passes over my body again. “And she better wear something sexy if she wants to get in.”
“They line up every night?” I ask.
“Yeah, except Sunday and Monday.” He slaps the other guy on the shoulder. “Have to speak to the wife at least once a week.”
I buy a small bag of potato chips and put up with their ridicule a little longer. They start laughing again as I walk toward the door.
“They’ll pick her with that tight ass,” says the older guy as I leave, “I’d pick any girl with that ass.”
I clench my teeth, wanting so bad to tell them to mind their shitty remarks. But I can’t piss off everyone in Weymouth. The neighborhood might end up being home again if I fuck up brilliantly one more time. I put my hood up, tightening the string, and take off on my bike to my mom’s apartment.
I own no slut clothes. Nothing tight just for the sake of showing off my body, nothing bright to make sure I stand out when I walk into a room. Sure, I like fem things, but I wear them for me, not to give a guy a boner in his jeans.
My closet has nothing in it that will get me into that club. So I take a pair of scissors to a vintage Misfits T-shirt and cut it so it stops right under my breasts. I pull off my bra and toss it onto the bed. Then I cut a pair of old bike shorts up to my crotch. I’d never wear this in public, I think as I check my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not only would I not wear it in public, but it’s fucking cold outside. No one is going to be wearing a heavy coat. I sigh and then remember my mom’s old leather jacket. It’s a short biker with silver buckles, and I can wear it with a pair of ankle boots.
With gel in my hair and red on my lips, I head out of the apartment, hoping no one here will see me looking like a biker ho. The girls are already lining up outside the Pit along the outer wall by the steel door. We wait out in the cold, girls laughing and stamping their feet to stay warm as the temperature drops further. A few check me out, thinking I might be new competition. A blonde with blue tips stares with hostility, and she’s probably the queen bee in the line. She’s good-looking, tall and lean with bigger tits than mine. But I ignore her the best I can. I want to fight inside, not out here.
She casually walks over and stands near me, talking shit and trying to make me acknowledge her loud mouth. Finally, she gives up trying to lure me into a confrontation and just talks to me directly.
“Hey, biker chick, ain’t you from Monarch?”
The chatter stops in the line, and I can see from the corner of my eye that I’m being watched. I can’t ignore Blondie unless I want to get jumped by these bitches.
“Yeah,” I barely raise my eyes.
She laughs like I made her do it. “But ain’t you at Stonehaven now? The rich kid school?” Blondie screws up her face as if she’s got to think about it. I hate that shit; she knows I’m at Stonehaven.
I shake my head. “Bitch, I’m from Weymouth.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice rises to a little-girl pitch as she points her finger at me. “You look like that girl.”
It’s getting embarrassing, the show she’s putting on. Is she trying to prove that newcomers had better play up to her? I just want to mind my fucking business and never come back here again.
“Look, I don’t know you,” I reply. “So why don’t you go bother someone else?”
Blondie laughs louder, clapping her hands once. “You must be that girl because your snot attitude ain’t worth my shit.”
I turn and face her, scowling like I want her fat head on the ground underneath my heel. “Why don’t we wait until we’re inside to talk shit?”
Blondie smiles and moves her hands onto her hips, pulling back her cropped satin jacket so everyone can see her big chest. She’s only wearing a flimsy bra underneath, and her hard nipples are straining against the lace.
“Sure, I’ll fight you.” Blondie laughs again then licks her lips slowly. She moves her hips in a circle and lets out a low moan. “I’ll fight you, sweetie. I like those long legs.”
Fuck. I completely miscalculated this crowd, and my staring eyes are broadcasting the fact as she laughs at me again. Blondie turns her back and goes off to talk to another girl leaning on the wall in a blue mini dress. They glance over at me, and like a dumbass, I keep staring until Blondie waggles her tongue between her two fingers. Oh wow. So, I’m okay with it, but personally, girls aren’t my scene. I love cock in my pussy too much.
The safest thing to stare at is the ground. I pull my jacket close, and I might’ve fucked up by not listening to Pierce. The vibe at the Pit has definitely changed, and I’m not sure how far I’ll go to get paid.
