AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Prologue
HAVEN
Back in high school…
I’ve now had half an hour to think about my crimes.
And I’ve decided what sucks the most is that I was minding my own motherfucking business, eating a severely overcooked cafeteria pizza square and reading Harry Potter fan fiction on my phone.
That’s when Abby Pressman, who has been walking around with a bug up her ass ever since losing out on volleyball team captain, made a bad choice to saunter her skinny, spray-tanned legs over to my table for the sole purpose of rubbing my nose in shit.
“Hey Marchenko, help settle a debate. When Conner Wiseman popped your cherry, was it a charity case or did you pay him off with your mobster father’s pimp cash?”
Abby laughed.
Surrounding tables laughed.
The cafeteria workers laughed. (Not really. But the humiliation felt epic just the same.)
In her moment of triumph, Abby propped her hands on her bony hips and swung her shiny hair over one shoulder as if I couldn’t choose to rip it all out at the root anytime I pleased.
As for the rest of the assholes who were snorting with glee in their plaid prep school finery, ninety-nine percent of them aren’t even worth a glare.
I tried to leave.
Abby blocked me.
I shoved her.
She threw a punch.
Too bad no one ever taught her how to hit.
Extra too bad that I’m blessed with good aim and a solid arm.
Instant bedlam ensued.
High school fights are always like blood in the water but girl fights are a special brand of red meat. People leapt over tables like they were running toward a pile of money. They trampled each other for the best view of the action and bayed like wolves. Somewhere in the din my sister shouted my name.
And I guess Abby never saw her own blood before because she started shrieking as if she’d been shot when her nose gushed like a fire hydrant.
I’d made my point. I had no plans to hit her again.
But absurdly strong hands grabbed my shoulders anyway, yanking me backwards like I needed to be stopped from murdering poor, helpless Abby.
Twisting away, I discovered that my captor was none other than the boy who remains infuriatingly clueless about how much heartbreak he has caused.
“Haven,” he said.
“Fuck you,” I replied.
“You already did!” someone shouted.
“HAHAHAHA!” screamed the rest of them.
Ignoring the whole psychotic mob, I snatched my backpack and ran out of the cafeteria, bowling over spectators along the way, and forgetting that I wouldn’t get far because Lita has the car keys today.
My journey was cut even shorter when the football coach seized me by the elbow and dragged me to Director Dick Sucker’s office with orders to stay put.
