Page 45 of Styx & Stones

Styx’s brows shoot skyward, and he removes his sunglasses. “Wait, what? You didn’t say we were going in while your mom was there.”

“Um ... duh! Of course we are. Don’t tell me you’re chicken?”

“I’m not a chicken. I just thought we’d wait until she went out.” He frowns at the house. “Maybe we should go over the plan.”

I grin. He’s totally chicken. “The plan is to follow my lead, and don’t get caught.”

“So, you don’t have a plan then?”

“Nope.” I hold my hand out for his, the way he did back in his dad’s apartment. “You ready, loner boy?”

He pops his gum like an asshole. “I was born ready, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Jesus, you’re a hard woman to please.”

“I am. It’s a fault I’m actually rather proud of,” I say and open my car door. “Now. I’m going to ask you again, Mr. Hendricks, are you going to take my hand or not?”

“You know, you’re really fucking hot when you get all domineering like that.”

I roll my eyes and make a come-hither gesture and he leans closer. “Styx, are you in or out?”

“Oh, I’m in.”

“Then get out of the goddamn car and cover me.”

“Cover you? What is this, a Black Ops mission?”

“If you wanna make out at Disney, then yeah, this is Black Ops, and we’re teenage badasses. Now, cover me while I sneak in my bedroom window, and give me a boost while you’re at it.” I run across the road and hide behind the Ficus in front of the house. Styx follows, but the tree is not nearly large enough to conceal both of us, so he just stands there like an idiot.

“Okay, Addicts,” I say with a goofy conspiratorial smile. “We’re going in.”

“On a scale of one to really scary, just how terrifying is your dad?”

“Korean-dad-level terrifying.”

“Right, and what’s your mom likely to do if she catches us?”

“Call my dad.”

“Okay, and just out of curiosity ... what are the chances of you going without clothing on this trip?”

I laugh. “You kiss a boy once and all of a sudden he thinks he’s Don Juan.”

“It was more than once, Stones.”

Shaking my head, I sign off, because I can’t exactly climb through my window while I film.

I run along the front path and take the stairs two at a time, then I slip my phone into my cleavage and smile at Styx. “I’m gonna need a boost.”

He slides his hands together and interlocks his fingers. I step into his joined palms and he lifts me. I grab onto the support pillar and attempt to pull myself up, but the chemo has made me weak. I struggle, my legs flailing wildly against the painted column. Styx shoves his hands under my butt and I squirm and kick.

“Ow! Jesus, Stones. You just kicked me in the goddamn eye.”

A loud laugh escapes me. “Sorry.”

With another boost, I hoist myself onto the portico roof underneath my window. I lie, panting, unable to ignore the burn in my arms and legs. Eventually, I sit and quietly draw up the window sash.

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