Page 15 of Endless Anger
SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD
“Doyou think our parents have ever fucked?” Lucy asks.
Foxe makes a gagging noise from one corner of Lucy’s bedroom, where he and Aurora are taking shots of tequila and attempting to use a Ouija board. I’m seated on the counter in Lucy’s bathroom, swinging my legs while she steps between them with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, swiping it over my nostril with a shaky hand.
“Why the fuck are you thinking about your parents’ dirty business?” Foxe calls, running a hand through his disheveled brown locks. His shirt is off, displaying the recent muscular definition afforded him by being promoted to quarterback of Aplana Academy’s football team, and Aurora can barely disguise her drooling.
I pretend not to notice though, because I don’t want them calling me out for my own inability to rein in my emotions. With Lucy between my thighs in a low-cut tank top, it’s nearly impossible to keep my stare above her head.
“Hold still,” she orders me, scrubbing at a particularly raw cut on my cheekbone. The fight I was in this afternoon was with some asshole who didn’t like Lucy’s science project on the alternatives to fossil fuels, so she doesn’t admonish me for the fact that I showed up tonight bloodied and bruised.
They called her stupid. I broke their jaw.
She quietly cleans me and then marks my nose with a purple felt-tip marker, moving on to the task we had planned.
My hands flex against the granite counter, gripping tight as I ignore the effect her bossiness has on me.
“But also answer the question,” she says, lowering her voice.
“Do I think our parents have ever fucked? Like, each other?”
She nods, and I lift my shoulders.
“I can’t say I’ve spent much time thinking about it. Most days, I consider myself lucky that my mom and dad seem to keep their sexual weirdness to their bedroom after dark. I don’t really want to wonder if they’re bringing in others to watch.”
Lucy’s blue eyes widen. “Oh my God. That’s what they do, isn’t it? They just have orgies together. Iknewour moms were too close.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Foxe chimes in, leaning away from the board as he reaches for a vodka bottle on the floor. He unscrews the cap, taking a huge gulp without wincing. “You and Ash-tree are close, but you’re not fucking. Right?”
My throat constricts, and Lucy’s mouth drops open. She whirls toward him, hurling the bottle of rubbing alcohol in his direction.
It smacks Aurora in the back of her blond head, and she groans, glaring at her cousin. “Hey! I didn’t do anything.”
“Jeez, Lulu, work on your aim,” Foxe snickers. “And learn how to take a joke.”
Aurora kicks his shin. “Don’t be a dick.”
“That’s my drum-pedaling leg,” he tells her, passing the drink. “You break it, you’ll have to explain to my dad why I didn’t get to follow in his musical footsteps.”
“He’s a professor,” she replies.
“Amusicprofessor.”
“So? It’s not like you’re on track to follow inthosefootsteps. You’re closer to becoming a washed up rock star like your uncle.”
“Aiden is not washed up. He retired to produce.”
Aurora waves her hand dismissively. “Basically the same thing.”
“Okay, well, let’s not forget howyourdad spends all his time at his bar?—”
Bringing my gaze back to Lucy while those two bicker, I note the fuchsia color staining her cheeks. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she snaps.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Are you hot?”
“I don’t know, Asher.AmI?”
