Page 82 of No Saint
Just like Jade’s dad had said about me. She must have glanced down at my phone screen still open on mine and Jade’s WhatsApp thread because she asked how Jade was.
“Good,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” God, this was awkward.
I’d never been so grateful to hear the war cry Hendrix let out from the back deck. Any time he did that, a fight usually ensued. “To the death, Star Wars Kyle!” he shouted.
I glanced across the dark yard. Hendrix wielded the plastic flamingo like a sword while Kyle—the scrawny guy he’d wanted to kill in high school because he had thought Lola was dating him—stood stock still a few feet in front of him. “Come on, Kyle. Come to the dark side.”
Lola stepped between them, took the flamingo, and whacked Hendrix’s stomach with it. “Just take the damn picture, Hendrix.”
A group of them lined up. Hendrix snatched Carl back from Lola and raised him above his head before a flash went off. After the group split up, Hendrix’s attention drifted to us. “Well, well, well…” he staggered through the tall grass. “If it isn’t Snora Nora.”
“God…” she mumbled.
He stopped in front of us, stabbing Carl into the ground. “Is Nora the Explorer trying to find out what’s in your sack, Wolf?”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
Sighing, Nora shoved off the trampoline. “I’m going to go refill my beer.”
Hendrix watched her leave. “I brought you an offering of girls, and you just want to rotate through your exes…”
“I’m not rotating through shit.”
“Lies.” He snatched up the flamingo, mumbling something about pimp penalties as he wandered back to the porch.
Half an hour later, everyone at the party was shitfaced. Carl had been tea-bagged more times than I could count, and I was bored out of my mind. I opened mine and Jade’s chat. She was still online. Wondering if she was talking to Brent, I pocketed my phone, grabbed a case of beer from the fridge, and snuck outside without telling anyone I was leaving.
The noise of the party faded as I made my way toward Jade’s house, zigzagging through the rundown neighborhood.
The Anderson house had always been the only one on the street without faded paint and a weed-littered lawn. Most likely because they were one of the only couples in the neighborhood without a drug problem… The only light on in the single-story house was Jade’s room. I crossed the dark lawn, placing the beer by the flowerbed before I tapped on her window. Her shadow appeared behind the thin curtain, and she peeked out from the corner before shoving the drapes to the side and cracking the window.
The warm glow of her lamp highlighted the confused crease in her brow. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Went for a walk and saw your light on…”
“You went for a walk…in Dayton?” Her brows lifted. “That party must have reallysucked.”
She was right. I hadn’t gone for a walk. I had walkedhere. To her. But I would never admit that.
Searching for a change of subject, my gaze shifted over her shoulder to her bed, the sheets still made. I nodded toward it. “Having trouble sleeping?”
She followed my gaze. “Yeah. I always do when I come home.”
Because when shit is in a person’s face, it makes it harder to ignore. “I was thinking of walking over to The Lookout…”
“Oh, I see. You’ve developed a penchant for late-night Dayton strolls and getting mugged?”
I fought a smile. “If you’re worried about me getting shanked by a crackhead, maybe you should come protect me.” Like Jade would be any help.
Her teeth worked over her bottom lip for a second, indecision playing on her face. “Give me five minutes?” Then she closed the window.
Nerves bunched my gut as I headed toward the curb to wait. Not because I was nervous to be around her but because things had been weird since the hay barn. I still needed to figure out some way to explain that but had no idea how. The front door creaked open, and Jade stepped outside, her hair tied up in a messy bun. The oversized hoodie she had on—the same one she’d worn the first time I kissed her—nearly reached the bottom of her denim shorts. Seriously, the girl could make anything look hot.
When she reached the end of her drive, her gaze drifted from my face to the box of beer tucked under my arm.
