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Xavier

“I’m not wearing a suit.” Theo snorts, giving Finn the finger as he throws himself onto the cloud couch in the home theater.

We hang out in here whenever Theo and Finn want to smoke a blunt inside and Finn’s pops is home—this room is the furthest from Hank’s office, so he can’t smell squat.

Hank would chop us into pieces if he found out. And he just might if Dia keeps coughing at the smoke.

“Like hell you’re not.” Finn drags a long hit from the blunt between his fingers. “My dad poured a shit ton of money into this thing, so either you wear a suit or a black-eye, Cox. Your choice.”

They’ve been talking about tomorrow’s cocktail party for hours. Finn’s dad hosts this “varsity” thing in his backyard every year at the end of the basketball season. Easton’s entire personnel is invited, along with the basketball team and cheer squad. It mainly consists of praising the Stallions and blowing smoke up Coach Diaz’s ass.

Welcome to Silver Springs, town of basketball-obsessed people. Did I mention we love basketball?

Can’t wait for my annual nap during Coach’s speech.

“Heard they’re announcing player of the season before the appetizers this year,” Finn relays.

“I do love those mini egg rolls,” Theo reminisces. “Fuck, and the cheesy bread sticks.”

Dia chuckles. “Is it just me or are you guys really invested in the food?”

“It’s not just you,” I say.

Dia glares at me in response, like she’s mentally subjecting me to a painful death. She’s been giving me the evil eye since she got here. No doubt her newfound hatred of me has something to do with Vee. I’ve been bombarding Aveena with texts since she stormed out of the school in tears yesterday.

She only answered me once.

And it wasn’t even a definite answer.

It only raised more questions.

Ask your mom.

What the fuck does that mean?

I haven’t slept a wink since. I tried everything. Meditation—doesn’t work for shit, by the way. A good wank, while I thought of Vee’s mouth wrapped around my cock. Her gasps and the little noises she makes when I go down on her.

Nada.

“Oh, and he hired some old-people band again. Bring earplugs,” Finn scoffs, tightening his hold around Dia’s waist, who’s sitting on his lap.

This party’s been the talk of the town all week. Finn’s dad does not mess around when it comes to making everybody feel poor. He hires servers to walk around handing out food and booze on silver platters and shit.

“Who do you think’s going to get player of the season this year?” Finn coughs my name into his fist. “Xavier.”

I stifle a laugh.

I get their silly player of the season plaque every year.

“Gee, I wonder.” Theo scoops a handful of the popcorn bag on his lap and lobs it at me.

I duck his assault.

“You got your speech ready, dickhead?” Finn asks me.

“Nah.” I slump against the couch. “I’ll just say the same shit I always say. Thank you, goodbye.”

“At least tell me there’ll be alcohol, Richards,” Theo groans.

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