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I doubt Parker would understand any of that, so I say nothing.

“What about money?”

“We’re good. Tuition is paid up for both of us and I’m thinking of selling Lola to tide us over until I get a job.”

“Lola? Your car? Dude you love that car.”

“It’s just a car. I can get an old truck that’s reliable and make sure Vi and I have transportation because I don’t want her walking or on the bus in this neighborhood. I can use the money left over as a nest egg while we make plans. I promise you, I’m fine, bro.”

“You’ll tell me if you need money,” he orders, and I frown. “I mean it,” he snaps, when I don’t answer. “You’d do the same if the roles were reversed and it’d make me feel a hell of a lot better if I could help.”

I sigh. “I’ll tell you,” I respond, but I know in my heart, unless it’s something for Violet, I’m not going to say shit.

“Good enough. I’d like to—”

“Parker man, do you know who the old guy is that lives in the alley?” Cyrus asks, coming back into the house all excited.

“No, who?” Parker and I ask together, because it’s clear he’s someone if Cyrus’s face is anything to go by.

“That’s Rooster Cox. He used to coach in the Big Leagues man!”

“The fuck you say,” I whistle, and Parker seems just as shocked.

We all walk outside to talk to Rooster, and I’m doing it wondering if today can get any stranger. When I go outside and hear Ida Sue and Rooster arguing about if the egg or the chicken came first—I decide it can.35VioletTwo Weeks Later“Where’s Mike?” Lindy whines and I turn away from my conversation with Camden to look at her.

It’s a rare day at Black Mountain when it’s not cold as hell and we’re outside on a picnic table, during break. Mike isn’t here today, he had to go into town and license the truck he bought after he sold his car. I’m feeling so guilty about it, but he won’t listen to me. It’s his job to take care of me. I can take care of myself, but I must admit it’s kind of nice that someone even worries about that stuff. All things considered, even without Mike being here it had been a good day—at least until Lindy showed up.

I rarely dislike people as much as I clearly dislike her. It goes beyond that she used to be with Mike, Lindy is just a bad person in general. I can’t find one redeeming quality about her.

“I don’t see how any of that is your business, Lindy. He kicked you to the curb, remember?”

“I need to talk to him,” she insists, and I have to wonder if this girl is for real.

“Well, he’s not in school today, so you’re shit out of luck. I have to tell you, even if he was here today, the last person he would want to talk to is you. So, run along and leave me alone, leave Mike alone and go find yourself a new play toy,” I respond, sounding snarky as hell—because I mean to.

“Oh please, I wouldn’t waste my time on Mike. Everyone knows he’s broke now,” she laughs, the sound coming out as evil as she is.

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t heard? Hah! That’s hilarious. I guess Mike didn’t want you to know. You’re sleeping with the gardener’s son, he’s no one. He’s been disowned. If you think you’re going ride a ticket into money by riding his dick, you’re insane.”

My stomach curls in disgust. I had no idea the truth about Mike’s family had gotten out. I feel a sick feeling flow over me like a wave. Lindy is laughing with some bleach blonde, dim-wit with her. They’re mocking Mike and the truck he bought. I hear them laughing about his car he sold, and I can’t take anymore.

I get up, grab a bunch of her hair and jerk her head back. Then, I throat punch her. One of the advantages to living on the street is you learn to take up for yourself. Lindy goes down grabbing her throat and I climb on top of her. It’s not the smartest thing, but I have the strongest urge to rub her face on the grass and mess up her perfect makeup.

It’s clear Lindy doesn’t really know how to fight, but the bitch has some sharp fingernails. She claws at me, tearing at the skin on my arm and chest. It stings, but nothing I can’t handle. I throw another punch, which isn’t easy because Lindy has her arms flailing and she’s trying to slap and claw me. I pull at her hair and she yanks her head and a gob of hair comes out.

“I hope that gives you a bald spot you bitch!” I snarl, dodging her hand as she tries to slap me again.

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