Page 41 of He Hate Me

“You’ll have to ask Deja that.”

“Text her. See if she wants to come.” Reluctantly, I do as he asks. The response comes back almost immediately.

Deja: Sorry. I have plans. Have fun.

He shrugs when he sees the response, apparently not surprised. I’m relieved, because if he was being friendly to me to get to Deja, I’d have been SOL. Instead, he has me climb into his Tesla and ride with him to his house. It only takes about fifteen minutes to get there. Most of the expensive houses in town are in this area, more spread out from each other than less expensive houses, but still a cluster.

Rourke’s house, or should I say mansion, is one of the Big 4. These are the largest and most expensive estates within a 200-mile radius. All were built during the gilded age and would be tourist attractions, I’m sure, if the owners let the public get anywhere near them. The other three are owned by families that have been in the area for generations—basically the local high society. One of the men used to be mayor. How Rourke’s dad came to own the place I have no idea, but he only lives there on paper.

Rourke points me to one of the many bathrooms for a quick shower, handing me an ugly as fuck Burberry tracksuit with the tags still on. I’m free balling, but there’s no denying the thing is comfortable. I wander until I find Rourke on the third floor playing Xbox solo.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“I could eat.” I shrug. “But what I really am is thirsty. I’d kill for a Gatorade right now.”

He picks up what looks like a miniature TV remote and speaks into it, requesting drinks and a snack tray. While we wait, I grab my duffle and pull out the reason Rourke asked me over in the first place. I unroll my toiletry bag. Instead of lotions and aftershave the little pockets are stuffed with plants, pills, liquids, and powders. I pull out papers, weed, hash oil and a grinder and get to work. This lavish spread is a gift from Anton, or more like a starter kit. It wasn’t my idea, but Anton’s position is that when people feel good around you, they tend to like you, and drugs make people feel very good.

A black woman around my mother’s age comes in carrying a tray. It’s weird to get served Gatorade off a silver tray. She also leaves behind a cutting board with cured meat, cheese, fruit, bread and crackers. It’s not an actual meal, but I’m glad to have it. I down the sports drink and finish rolling the joint. We smoke, then eat. Javi shows up, then Christian and a couple of sophomore girls I don’t know. More people trickle in as the hours go by. Pretty soon I’m the candy man, distributing (selling) the shit Anton gave me. No charge for Rourke, of course.

Getting back into drug dealing might seem stupid, but guys like this have no interest in befriending NPCs like me unless we can benefit them in some way. Randomly handing out drugs would look suspicious but comping the host for access to his guests—that’s believable.

Around 11:30, I bid the partiers goodbye and take a ride share back to Devin’s. The house is dark, and I wonder if Deja’s curled up in her bed or racing home to make curfew. I wish this was a world where I could go straight up to her room and climb in bed with her, tuck her head under my chin, and squeeze her tight. But instead I go to my room, discard the $1,000 track suit on the floor, and climb into bed.

Fifteen

Deja

The day of the homecoming dance I have to sit the ACT in the morning, but after that the day is free. I think I do well on the test, so I let myself relax and do nothing for a change—no training, no studying, minimal texting. I do some yoga, but more for the loose way it makes my muscles feel than as exercise. Brandon comes into the gym while I’m doing it and watches me while he lifts. I really can’t miss the size of his erection, but he pretends it’s not there, so I do, too.

“Hey,” he says, when he’s done, chugging from an oversized water bottle. I’m in corpse pose by this point, and he’s standing above me, shiny with sweat. He smells like the outdoors, so I think he took another one of his trail runs in the woods. He crouches next to me. “So you’re going to the dance with that Jayden guy?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s your ex, right?”

“Yes.” I’m tempted to laugh. He needs to get to the point.

“So, uh, are you getting back together with him?”

“What’s it to you?” I ask, propping myself up on one arm and facing him.

“You know exactly what it is. You’re mine.”

“Really? Cause last time we kissed you were too scared to take it home. Maybe Jayden can handle me a little better.”

I’m goading him, but he surprises me by laughing.

“Yeah, no. I’m pretty sure he can’t.”

“How do you know that?”

Amusement lights up his blue-sky eyes and it seems like he’s going to say something, but then he bites his lower lip. He chuckles.

“Because I can tell no one’s ever made you come the way I do. You were so surprised the first time.”

“And you’re so full of yourself. Maybe I was faking it.”

“You’re going to be full of my cock if you don’t control that mouth.” He adjusts himself and I catch myself staring at his oversized bulge. I swear I can see his heavy balls with the way he’s positioned less than two feet from my face.