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“Stop,”she screeches, kicking her legs in an attempt to dislodge me. “Seriously, Brooks.” She tries for seriousness. “You’re being juvenile.”
My eyes widen as I dig my fingers in harder, her face going bright red as she struggles to breathe.
“Admit it.”
“No!” she yells through her squeals.
“Admit it, and I’ll stop.”
“No.”
I slide down the bed, grabbing her feet.
“No. Please, no. Brooks!”
I let my fingers dance across the soles of her feet lightly as she squirms.
“Please. Please. Please,” she chants. “Not my feet.”
I tickle her harder. “You know what you need to do.”
“All right.” She laughs against her better judgment. “All right.”
I stop, keeping her feet hostage.
“I stole your phone to text Evelyn to cancel your date, then deleted said text.”
I release her feet. “Why?”
She scurries upward, tucking her feet underneath her ass to protect them from further attack. “Because she’s a bitch, Brooks. Youcannotbe interested in her?”
Not in the slightest, but watching Henley squirm has always been my favorite pastime. “Her tits, sure.”
She throws a cushion at my head. “Gross. She actually pushed me in the hallway today and threatened that I’d bescrubbed off your shoewhen you two got serious.”
In the past twelve months, I’ve managed to worm my way into Henley’s circle. Not that you can call it much of a circle with only two of us in it. Addy sits on the outskirts, much to her disgust. It was obvious Henley needed a person. She was lost and noticeably alone. It worked perfectly for me considering I too was in need of a person. I was new in town, and she fascinated me.
Henley’s eyes roll dramatically. “Don’t be ridiculous. The bitch is crazy. A rich girl with an attitude. I wanted to knock her down a peg. Or twelve.”
“Fair enough. Next time, though, just tell me. You know there’s no need to swipe my phone. I would’ve sent the text myself.”
“I know,” she admits just as a door upstairs slams shut.
We wait quietly for the screaming to start. The hideous roars and screeching as her parents communicate the only way they know how.
“It’s getting worse.”
I glance at the ceiling of her bedroom, knowing they’re standing directly above us, hurling insults at one another for their daughter to hear.
“She hit him the other night,” she confides.
“They let you see that?” I can’t even attempt to hide my disgust.
Over the past year, I’ve been privy to the inner workings of Henley’s parents. They don’t even care to hide their vile distaste for one another when I’m around anymore. Gone is the act. Not that there was a solid one to begin with.
They openly have affairs. Being seen with other men and women in public without a care of what it does to their daughter.
They’re a joke, and the entire town knows it.
