Page 30 of No Saint
“Give me that shit, then.” Rogue snatched Wolf’s plate and put it beside his own.
Cassie brought out the jug of orange juice. As soon as she placed it on the table, Rogue helped himself to a glass. The minute he lifted it to his lips, Cassie shot me a smirk.
“So, we need to lay down some ground rules,” Rogue said, then took another large gulp. Rules? Like we were errantchildren. I hoped he was chained to the toilet for days. “Your curfew is eleven.”
“Curfew?” I glanced at Cassie, knowing that wasn’t going to work. “Last time I checked, you weren’t our dad. And sometimes we work late.”
“Roller Burger closes at nine,” Bellamy said.
Rogue topped off his drink. “And I’m not your dad; I’m your warden.”
Wolf and Bellamy snorted a laugh. Petey was too busy scarfing down food to join in the conversation.
“Not that you’d know a single thing about working.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But we do inventory every week. It can take hours.” It was bullshit. No one ever did the inventory. “As for being warden…whatever power trip you need, Rogue.”
His fork clattered to the plate, his gaze swinging to Wolf. That seemed to be his default, turning to Wolf, even though he was supposed to be the president.
“Like he said. Curfew is eleven,” Wolf backed up Rogue. “There’s a list of daily chores on the fridge.” The legs of Wolf’s chair scratched the hardwoods when he pushed to his feet, his hardened gaze meeting mine when he rounded the table.
So, that was how it was going to be.
I glared at the back of his head as he passed through the living room. Let that be a lesson not to bother trying to make any kind of amends with Wolf.
Nine
Wolf
Instead of focusing on the lecture, I was focused on Jade’s piss-poor offer of condolences. She couldn’t be bothered to offer them when I’d needed them, so why the hell had she felt the need to offer them that morning? I would have rather she’d just ignored it.
Dr. Howard pulled last week’s algebra exam from his briefcase. “You kids need to make sure you’re completing all the homework assignments.”
Students packed their books as he moved around the class, handing out the papers.
“By your grades, I can tell some of you don’t see the point in it.” He dropped my test onto my desk.
Of course I’d failed like a sack of shit being dropped onto hot pavement from seventy-three floors. Two out of twenty correct. My gut knotted at the real prospect of getting suspended. Everything I’d busted my ass for, all the early morning workouts, the concussions, was about to be gone. All because I couldn’t figure out what the hellXandYwere equal to.
I crammed the test into my backpack, yanked the zipper closed, and headed out of the classroom, hoping fresh air might help the sick feeling in my stomach. It didn’t.
I was halfway to the cafeteria when my phone buzzed in my pocket, then buzzed again. I figured it was probably Monroe sending me more threats of castration if I didn’t let Jade off the hook. That girl had grown up in the trailer down from mine. She was engaged to one of my best friends, so she, of all people, should have known all those threats would only add fuel to the fire. I pulled out the device just as another text from Bellamy popped up on the screen.
Man, I’ve got to go home.
Can you fill in for me?
I’m sick as shit.
I fired off a text, telling him I was on my way.
Halfway down the concourse, I spotted him, leaning over the pamphlet-covered table, clutching his stomach.
I dropped my backpack to the lawn, and he glanced up. Face white. Sweat beading his brow.
“Posterboard’s on the chair.” He tossed the tape at me. “I think the girls undercooked that bacon or something.”
“You should have known better than to eat anything they cook.”
“It seemed fine.” He grabbed his stomach again. “Fuck me,” he groaned, then booked it toward one of the buildings.
