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Ramses grinned now. “Uh, yeah. So everybody’s in, then? Like I said, it doesn’t have to be anything huge. I know it’s a school night and not long before finals.”
The fact it was a school night and before final exams didn’t phase anyone, Birdie dancing in her seat next to me. She nudged me. “Dude, you should totally get excited. Ramses’ house is frickin’ awesome.”
Ramses rolled his eyes. “Correction. Dad’s house. None of that stuff’s mine. He and my mom just let me use it.”
“Well, we will happily use it too,” Shakira said, the black girl twirling one of her long braids. She eyed me. “Bro even has a basketball court.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?” I knew Ramses’ family had money, but what the hell? “Who’s his dad?”
“Who’s his dad?” Shakira’s eyes bugged out now. “Um, ever heard of Mayor Mallick? Like the mayor of Maywood Heights?”
Seriously, the what the fuck had to be all over my face now. I stared up at Ramses. “Uh, so never mentioned that one, Mallick.”
“Never came up, ’Zona,” he stated, waggling thick eyebrows at me. He’d taken to shortening my nickname recently, chuckling. “Anyway, father figure and Mom are out of town tonight, which means it’s the perfect time for my friends and me to get to reap the spoils.”
This had the table soaring in delight, and as I listened to the details, I did think about his dad. The mayor? Wow.
Did anyone in this town not have power?
Twenty-Five
December
Ramses Mallick was seriously an asshole, and I knew that the moment I woke up the next day with a serious hangover and an aversion to light. I’d pretty much drunk my weight in alcohol last night, and the weed I smoked probably reached new heights. I’d been baked to hell, and despite paying for that this morning, it’d been awesome. I couldn’t remember the last time I drank and smoked not because I was stressed or even depressed. I let loose because I was having a good time with friends, a nice switch from before. Still, I was paying for that now, and it was only because of my dog I got up at all in the morning. Hershey wanted her at-the-butt-crack-of-dawn morning walk, and I tried to do that for her usually before school each day.
“God, you hate me, don’t you?” I asked her, my big puppy stomping my face with her paws to get my ass up. I groaned. “Fine. Fine. Fine. I’m up.”
Like she understood, she hopped from my bed and disappeared somewhere into the room. I was still trying to trigger a little life into my body, the visions of beer pong and video games still in my head. Ramses’ house did have a game room, and we’d all spent most of the time in it, eating junk food and getting piss-ass drunk. It’d seriously been a good time, and I smiled a little, gripping my bed. My puppy came back with her leash in her mouth, wagging her tail, and that smile I had left.
“You really do hate me.”
She just blasted me with that dog smile in response, and after I rubbed her head, I got up. She gave me the time to wash up and be really lazy when I put my coat on over my T-shirt and leggings. I’d dress properly when we got back, and after sticking my feet into my UGG boots without socks (yeah, it was straight serious today), I grabbed a pair of sunglasses to avert the sun. I kept these little walks with Hershey pretty quiet in the morning, not wanting to wake the house, and managed to keep things silent when I snuck outside.
The cold air hit like a bitch at first impact, but eventually, I got used to it, my boots scraping against the salted walk. Hershey and I took the trails behind the house, a pretty scenic park back there. It was easy to navigate with the signs, and since
people did jog and walk back there, they kept the area clean and even cleared the snow from the trails for hikers. I didn’t pass a lot of people considering how early Hershey and I went for walks, but when I did, I always moved for the occasional jogger. I tried to do that today as someone came up behind me, but as I heard the person slow down, I tugged Hershey’s leash to a stop. I smelled the person before I saw them, and when I turned, my gaze filled with Royal Prinze.
Puffs of cold air came from full lips, his perfect cheekbones filled with red color. His golden locks feathered in the chilly breeze, the boy jogging in place in a pair of too-tight jogging pants. Like seriously, they were two seconds away from being nylon leggings, lining his muscular legs like a second skin. Coming to a stop, he pulled an AirPod out of his ear, nothing but Under Armour covering his broad physique. He parted his lips. “Hey, Em.”
Hey… Em. He said “hey” like he talked to me. Like we were even anything to each other anymore.
“Hi,” I said, tugging Hershey back when she started to go over to him. She wanted to play, and despite keeping her away, he got to his knees with her.
“You’ve sure gotten big,” he said, smiling a little when he scratched her behind the ears. He looked up at me. “She’s gotten big.”
I nodded, what he said fact. He played with her a little while before standing, taking out his other AirPod and shoving them both into his pocket with glove-lined hands.
“How have you been?” he asked me, tucking those big hands into the same pockets, and I could have slapped him. He asked me how I’d been, how I’d been like he hadn’t put me through and still put me through hell on a day-to-day basis. He had to know how hard it was to see him with Mira. He had to know. He wasn’t an idiot.
Or maybe he was.
“You’re a joke, you know that?” I started to walk away, but hands and a body wouldn’t let me. His hands and his body wouldn’t let me, a chest touching my side, a curled finger and a thumb pinching my coat for me to stay.
“Em…” He breathed my name, his voice low and definitely not from someone who was at all virtually available. His tone wasn’t mad either, which he’d clearly been that day he kicked me out of Windsor House.
I closed my eyes. “Don’t. Don’t do that to me.”
“What?” He tugged me to face him, looking like he wanted to do more. “Don’t what? Tell me.”
