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I’m not. I’m almost twenty, but still. I’d like to at least look my age so people take me seriously.
I hate it when people don’t. It’s why I have my saws. Electric ones that don’t even have cords. Just full-on battery-powered.
I fucking love them. I spent a lot of time finding the ones that really work and can cut through bone when needed. Makes me feel like a Bone Reaper. Like a real badass.
“We there yet?” I ask as we drive up a winding mountain road. Fuck, this journey is never-ending, and I’m starting to feel nauseous.
Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much crap all at once. But I’m definitely a boredom eater, which happens quite often. I’m bored out of my fucking mind. And this trip up to my dad’s mountain safe house is the fucking worst.
I press down on my stomach and feel it rumble, my throat working as I gag. Yeah, not gonna make it.
“Feel sick,” I murmur, even though Skylar can’t hear anything over the booming music. Should probably warn him that I might vomit any second now. I don’t think he’d like that very much. He’d probably make me clean it up, which I’m not too keen on, so I turn the volume down and repeat myself.
“Gonna puke, asshole.”
Skylar eyes me, and I swallow roughly, starting to sweat. He must see my pale face and determine that I am not, in fact, lying and pulls over as quickly as he can.
I stumble out of the car, the cool air hitting my pale, sweaty skin as I crawl to a bush and unload my stomach, feeling better almost immediately. I eye the pile of regurgitated food and scrunch my face.
Probably won’t ever eat Corn Nuts again.
Or Skittles.
They don’t look that great coming back up. A little like dog food.
I’m not really feeling the rainbow right now.
I swipe my hand across the back of my mouth and swallow.
A bottle of water appears near my face, and I reach up to grab it with a trembling hand.
Quickly, I gulp some of the cool liquid down, feeling the water hit my blessedly empty stomach.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I inhale deeply.
“We’re almost there,” Skylar says, and my eyes drag up his thick thighs clad in dark denim and across his big, wide chest. The seams of the t-shirt he’s wearing are barely hanging on. They’re stretched thin. Must be nice to be so big and strong.
I look scrawny in comparison. Like a scarecrow. A bird sat on me once. Angel peed his pants laughing at me.
Not that I care what anyone thinks. I don’t mind how I look all that much. It is what it is. Complaining about it does nothing to change the way I was born. And I don’t care enough to actually do anything about it. I could probably get a haircut though. Right now it’s hanging over my eyes and just bugging the shit out of me.
I push it back and stand straight on wobbly legs.
“It’s your driving,” I say, my voice slightly hoarse. “Just terrible. You should have your license revoked.”
He stares at me and then turns and walks away, back to the driver’s side and slips in. Well, he doesn’t really slip in anywhere because he’s so big, but he does manage to do it much more gracefully than me. And I’m half his size.
It doesn’t help that this SUV is gigantic. There is really no need for it to sit this far off the ground. It’s just not practical for people my size. I grunt my way inside, my shaky arms being really fucking unhelpful.
As soon as I’m buckled in, Skylar drives us up the road while I hold on to my sloshing stomach until we arrive at our destination.
“This is it?” I ask, my eyes sweeping over the small shack situated between a cluster of trees. Looks a bit like the Unabomber’s place. Not that I’m surprised. I’m sure my dad saw this and bought it for shits and giggles.
“Yep.”
I snort and run a hand through my hair again. “Of course it is.”
Skylar doesn’t say anything else as he grabs the duffle bags from the back seat and walks to the front door. Using a key, he unlocks it, and the door squeaks open. My dad is a cheap bastard when he wants to be. I’m sure he sent me here to punish me for being so careless, which is funny because I know for a fact that he knows where I live. My rudimentary basement apartment isn’t much better than this place, I’m sure.
