Page 163 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“Haven’t you heard…” Memphis threw his arm over my shoulder. “Our little Nova is a bit of a legend.”

Ugh, I’d rather be the girl with a sock on her ass.

I shrugged his arm off me. “People have too much time on their hands.”

I was not a legend, I was annoyed, and pissed off. This shit was all Gio’s fault. If he hadn’t gone all caveman and acted like an idiot then no one would be saying a thing. On the upside no one seemed to be talking about what happened in his Range Rover, so there was that. Thank God for tinted windows.

“Wait.” Chuck held up his hands. “You’re telling me all the crap I’ve been hearing this morning is about Nova?”

“Yes.” Memphis nodded.

“This Nova?”

Was there another one, because that would be outstanding? I always wanted to have a death battle with myself.

Memphis nodded again. “Yes. This Nova.”

“Why would anyone talk about her?”

That was a very good question. I wasn’t that interesting.

“Look at her.” Chuck waved his hand in my direction. “She’s a mess, and…” He stopped and took a second to eye me. “What are you wearing?”

The fact that it took him this long to say something was further proof of his ignorance. Gio’s shirt didn’t fit me at all. It looked like I blanket or sheet draped over my shoulders.

“Is that a T-shirt?”

“No,” I said. “It’s a weapon.”

Both Memphis and Chuck tipped their heads and cocked a brow, but it was Memphis who spoke. “How is that a weapon?”

Guess it was time for a demonstration.

I grabbed a handful of the cloth–which was more like a dress than a shirt on me–gave it a quick twirl, then flicked my wrist, whipping the end off Memphis’s hand.

“Ouch.” Memphis jerked his hand back to shake away the pain. “That hurts.”

“I know. Effective isn’t it?” Especially when someone thought they could lick the icing off the beaters in home ech. Those were my beaters.

It also came in handy when the same someone tried to steal my pencil. This shirt had many purposes. Including detention, which was where I would be heading after school. Sister Mary Of The Hallway was not impressed with my amazing whipping ability. Nor was she impressed with my very visible bra when she told me to take the shirt off.

I, myself, was more disturbed by the fact that I got a little turned on when I saw her now, but whatever. We all had our own grievances.

Chuck shook his head and rolled his eyes. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Are you referring to my questionable sexuality and man problems? Or do you mean my legendary status?” Personally, I found that to be a big issue. More people were trying to talk to me.

“The only place you’re a legend is in your own mind.”

Clearly, he had never been in my mind.

“And the only man problems you have is finding one that will put up with you.”

“Shows how much you know.” Although I wouldn’t necessarily say Gio put up with me. It was more like torment and punishment, with a side of orgasms and sperm running down my thigh. By the way, that was not a comforting thing to feel when one was trying to learn chemistry.

“Are you trying to say you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” I had a fiancé. “Now, if you don’t mind.” I pulled a pencil out of my bag. “I have a bullshit essay to write.”

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