Page 5 of Burn (Smoke)


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I scowled. His words felt like a slap in my face. I didn’t like hearing him verbalizing something I had already noticed. I was just ignoring it. I had to shut this down now, before he fucked up everything. We were friends. The three of us. It was how it was supposed to be.

“What? Baby Doll? We are talking about the same person, right?” I asked him.

He had an amused smirk. “Yeah. She’s changed this year.”

I shook my head, as if he were insane. I wished she’d stop changing. Go back to being the girl who dressed like a boy.

“No. She’s the same girl we’ve been friends with since we were eight. Except she’s taller and she doesn’t climb trees anymore,” I told him.

Bowie had a confused expression. “Whatever,” he said. “Let’s go downstairs and get shit ready for the party?”

“Yeah.”

And to stop talking about Genesis like she was … a regular girl.

She wasn’t. She was our glue. Without her, we wouldn’t have the perfect trio. Bowie seeing her as a girl meant that would end. If I could ignore how she looked, then he could too. He had to see her like me, just Baby Doll. Our best friend.

Genesis—Sixteen Years Old

June 1

Bowie was scowling. I knew he was pissed about my bikini, but he could get over it. I crossed my arms under my boobs and walked over to stand in front of him. His gaze went to my chest, then finally met mine.

“Are we really going to fight at Kye’s birthday party?” I asked him, irritated.

His nostrils flared. “I don’t like that fucking bikini, Gen, and you know it.”

“It covers more than what most everyone else has on,” I told him, then stepped closer to him and put my arms around his neck. “You didn’t used to get so upset about my bikinis.”

His gaze dropped back to my chest again, and he sighed. “Yeah, well, until this year, your tits weren’t C cups either.”

I laughed and went up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. “You weren’t complaining about that in the back of your truck last night,” I whispered.

His hands cupped my butt, and he jerked me against him. “I love your tits. I just don’t like others looking.”

He pressed a kiss to the mole that was located above the corner of my upper lip. Turned out, my mom had been right. I liked my beauty mark a lot.

“It’s my birthday,” Kye announced, slapping us both on the back. “Stop eye-fucking each other long enough to make this about me.”

Bowie rolled his eyes, then looked at him. “When is shit not about you?” he asked him.

Kye raised his eyebrows. “Right fucking now. You’re all worked up because Baby Doll put on a bikini and the jealousy monster has taken over.” Kye looked at me. “You are stealing the show.”

If any other guy called me the nickname Baby Doll, Bowie would have his fist in their face. But Kye had labeled me Baby Doll when we were kids. He thought it was funny.

“It’s more conservative than Ricki’s bikini,” I pointed out.

Ricki was Kye’s flavor of the week.

Kye bit his bottom lip and groaned. “Fucking hell, it barely covers her double Ds.”

“Jesus, Kye,” Bowie replied with a laugh.

Kye flicked his tongue ring. His dad had taken him to get it pierced for his birthday, and he was always clicking it against his teeth. I had to admit, it was sexy, just like everything else about Kye. Every female in school thought so. He was my best friend though. I could admit he was sexy and not feel anything.

I loved Bowie. I mean, I loved Kye too. That would never change. But it was Bowie who had made the difference. Kye would always see me as one of the guys. Since the summer I’d turned twelve, Bowie had made it clear that he saw me as more. That more had turned into an us.

“I’m gonna fuck those tits as soon as I get her back to my truck, but later, y’all are still coming over, right?”

I glanced at Bowie. It was tradition. We stayed the night in Kye’s den in the basement of his house. Our night was normally filled with horror movies, video games, and junk food. It had changed over the years some. We no longer all slept on the same sofa bed together. That would be awkward. The sodas had been exchanged for beer, and we didn’t eat as much candy anymore.

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Bowie told him.

Kye grinned. “Good. Be sure to get the making-out shit done before you get there. I don’t want to watch that once our night begins.”

Bowie shook his head and laughed. Kye always said exactly what he was thinking. There was no filter there at all. It was part of what made him Kye.

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