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“I wish—”
“You don’t need to be worrying about an old man. Now, get along with you.”
“Okay,” she says, and I can tell she’s clearly not happy. I don’t have time to think about that though, because she’s walking back my way. I jog back to the street and hide behind a van. I watch as Violet, head down, walks to the building that I was standing in front of just seconds ago. She monkeys around in her pocket and then, after a minute, she unlocks the damn door.
She lives here?
I can’t quite believe it and I wait for something else to happen to prove I’m wrong. Instead, she closes the door.
She lives here in this shit apartment building, in this shit neighborhood and she brought food back to a homeless guy with a pet chicken.
Of all the ways I saw tonight playing out with Violet…this wasn’t it.
I resist the urge to go inside and drag Violet out of there. I know it wouldn’t do any good.
Instead, I walk back over to my car and head home.
I’ll try and puzzle out the mystery that is Violet Raines later. Somehow, I think she just might be a riddle that I’ll never completely solve.
And I think I like that.18VioletI didn’t sleep at all. I had dreams. No, scratch that. I had nightmares all night of Mike Huntington. He was kissing me, touching me…making love to me.
And I liked it.
That’s a definite nightmare. I can’t crush on a player like Mike Huntington. Where did my brains go? Not only is he a player, but he’s also trying to blackmail me. The fact that I’m having sex dreams about him is so wrong on just about every level.
I push thoughts of him out of my head. If I don’t hurry, I’m going to miss my bus, and the last thing I want to do is get to school late. I’d rather not piss off Mr. D., the principal, this soon in the school year.
I gather my thick hair and put it up in a messy contraption on top of my head. I don’t look like I belong at BMA at all. I’ve got faded jeans on with a hole below the knee. It’s not the fashionable type of hole you buy already in the jeans, either. This hole has been earned by constant wear. I do have the BMA uniform shirt on, but it’s under my hoodie. I’ll change into the rest of it once I get to school. It’s cold outside and the skirt looks like something you would wear in a damn porn movie. I’m not traveling all the way to town on the bus with only that skirt barely covering my ass.
I might have blonde hair, but I’m not stupid.
I grab my backpack and pull the door open, letting out a squeak when I see Mike standing on the other side, leaning on the door frame.
“Hey, gorgeous.” he says, a big smile on his sexy but stupid face.
I give him a look that I’ve used on annoying people my whole life and growl, “What in the fuck are you doing here?”
Mike laughs and I feel tension beginning to gather at my temples. Today is not starting off well.
“Such a sweet mouth, Violet. Do you know it turns me on when you talk dirty to me?”
I roll my eyes.
“You get turned on if the wind blows, Mike.”
“When it comes to you, I do,” he agrees, and I shake my head.
“From what I hear it’s anything with breasts,” I argue.
Something moves over his face for a minute. I don’t know what it is, and I’d like to study it, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a smile that in no way reaches his eyes.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Angel. You ready for school?”
“How did you find me?” I ask, and maybe I should be surprised, but for some reason I’m not.
“I followed you here last night. Later, you and I will have a discussion about you lying to me. I’ve lived here my whole life. Did you really think I wouldn’t know you didn’t live in that house?”
I put my hands on my hips and decide my best way out of this situation is to go on full attack. That always seems better than trying to defend myself.
“Do you really expect me to believe you know who lives in every house in Black Mountain, Mikey?”
“Every single time you call me Mikey my cock twitches,” he says, grinning.
“It’s probably twitching because you have gonorrhea. You should see a doctor about that if you plan on having little Mikey’s in the future.”
“Thanks for the heads up. I’m not really thinking about spreading my seed around.”
“That’s not what I hear,” I snipe.
I can see Mike study me, his tongue pushing against the inside of his mouth, like he’s preoccupied with trying to figure me out. I could be nice and tell him not to bother. I’m having trouble figuring myself out when it comes to him.
