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Her taunts grow louder with each step like she's right beside me and not buried dozens of feet below me.
Roll and click, on.
Roll and click, off.
I don't know why I even bother. The fire does nothing to douse the noise.
I head straight for the boy's dormitory and beeline up the stairs. I don't go to my dorm room, though. I go to Saint and Kill's instead. Any later in the day, and I'd have to jimmy their pain-in-the-ass window to get inside, but it's still early enough that curfew isn't in place yet and the door's unlocked.
I enter without knocking. Neither one of them is even bothered by it. I think it would annoy them if I started knocking at this point.
Both are on their beds, stretched out and looking bored, as I take a seat behind them, at Saint's desk. It's a miracle I don't break the chair with how hard I land, which is so unlike me. I'm graceful and light on my feet, not a stampeding buffalo.
Get your shit together, Gabe!
"Wanna talk about it?" Kill offers, not even glancing at me as he flips the page of his book.
"No," I grumble.
Saint looks up from his phone, probably texting his girlfriend, and reaches a hand back behind himself and over his pillow to pass me his lit cigarette. I accept it with shaky fingers and take a puff. I close my eyes as the nicotine hits my bloodstream and starts to calm my nerves.
"Wanna fight?" Kill offers, sending me a grin over his shoulder as I pass the cigarette back to Saint. "You know you always feel better after you kick somebody's ass."
"Yeah, hit him," Saint says with a laugh, sucking on his cigarette like it's a lollipop.
"I didn't mean me, dumbass," Kill retorts with a rare laugh that shows his teeth. "Let's go fuck some shit up like the old days before you two went all feminist and got woman problems."
I look to Saint, who's currently sucking on the cigarette again, but his blue eyes are trained on me.
"What the fuck does he think a feminist is?" I ask Saint, cocking my head in Kill's direction.
He laughs, expelling smoke from between his teeth and hands the cherry back to me. With anybody else, cigarette swapping would probably be nasty, but not with my brother. He's the equally fucked-up family I never had.
Kill sits up in his bed, reaches behind himself, and smacks the back of my head, but there's no force behind it. He's in a good mood for once. Either he hit his skull on a wall and concussed himself recently or he found a virgin and popped her cherry. Kill's got a thing for virgin, preferably deeply devout, blood. I like my pussy less uptight and more experienced but to each their own.
"Funny," Kill says to me. "Also, I know what a feminist is. I'm just saying you two are whipped. You by the dead girl, and Saint by Willow."
"Bro," I look at him like he's crazy because heisfucking crazy to say that shit. "You know I have Avery locked up in the basement at the moment, right? Like in an actual prison cell?"
Saint snorts, and I look to him for help. "How am I whipped?"
Saint's gaze slices from me across the room to Kill. "G's got a point."
Then he steals the cig back right from between my fingers and takes a puff.
Fuck, I need Marshall to replace our stash asap, or I'm going to have to resort to stealing and smoking the Virginia Slims Headmistress sneaks when she thinks no one is looking.
"Also," Saint says to Kill, "keep my pet's name out of your filthy mouth or I'll break your teeth for it."
The words are all soft corners and sanded-down edges, but Saint is serious. Nobody talks about his perfect pet. Hell, nobody looks at her if they know what's good for them.
Kill turns around to me this time, running a hand through his dirty blond hair so that it points out every which way.
"Daaaaaadddd," he pouts, "he's threatening me."
Saint rolls his eyes, and I laugh.
"Hold up," I say, looking back at Saint. "What if we have to say your girl's name in class or something? Are you saying that we can't talk to her at all anymore? What about at meals when you bring her toourtable? Or when you sneak her in here? And what about now when she's not even here? We can't say her name?"
