Page 13 of Satan's Spawn
I know it, my dad knows it, the kids at Riverside know it, and if it was up to some of the girls I’ve fucked in the past, the world would know it too.
Crayton Shaw: the mystery nobody dares to try and solve.
The wolf lurking in the hallways of this ancient building.
The fiend.
The bad guy.
Always the bad guy.
Which is precisely what my roommate Saint’s newest fuck buddy is thinking right now as she peers over at me from his bed covering her chest with his sheets.
“Do you mind?” Melanie, thevirtuousdaughter of a right wing conservative political daddy, sneers at me as I cross my ankles on my bed.
“Not at all, proceed.” I lift my hand, giving her the green light to begin her walk of shame out of our dorm room.
In her defense, the sticker Saint left on the door made it clear I wasn’t supposed to return until eight o’clock this morning, and they were asleep when I walked in to find her naked in his bed.
Inmydefense, I found it hilarious to take my time and hang each article of clothing she threw all over my bed throughout the dormitory hallways before slamming one of Saint’s textbooks on the floor to wake them up.
Here we are now, twenty minutes later, Saint stretching his arms over his head as I wait for the closet skank to realize she’s leaving here in a bed sheet.
“Mornin’, sunshine.” Saint winks at me as I toss his football up in the air. “Long night of killing puppies?”
“Kittens.” I correct him, which makes Melanie gasp, of course thinking low enough of me not to assume it’s a joke.
“Can you please get out so I can get dressed?” Melanie attempts to reason with me, which makes Saint chuckle because he knows she’s got a better chance of her hymen regenerating than that happening.
Saint has been my roommate since freshman year at Riverside Prep, and it’s been this way ever since for a reason.
He’s the only other person I can tolerate enough to actually live with.
“Sure, I’ll get out.” I stand, tossing the ball over to Saint who looks absolutely thrown by my attempt at decency as he stands in nothing but a pair of ball shorts.
“Thank you,” Melanie huffs, hauling her legs over the bed still covering herself.
That’s when it happens.
“Where the fuck are my clothes?” Her eyes widen with panic.
“Oh, were you needing them?” I pull her pink lace thong from my pants pocket, carrying it toward the door. “I assumed they were only for show since you threw them all over my fucking bed.” I pull the door open and whistle, and a few seconds after that Levi, the Royals JV wide receiver and another addition to our dysfunctional crew, appears with a wicked grin.
“Sup bitches? I got a text tellin’ me I’m on thong duty.”
By thong duty, he’s referring to the panties of the girls we fuck that get slung over the tall gate to the school’s football field in the back.
It takes the staff long—and the girls even longer—to manage to get them down, since nobody, not even the school’s faculty, wants to piss off the guys whose parents keep a heavy hand in endowments.
My dad being the most generous of them all.
With a menacing smile on my face, I hold the flimsy underwear out and Levi snatches them, running off before the dorm head starts his morning rounds.
Today is new student orientation, too, so this will be a fun eye sore for any newbs.
Unless, of course, that ass kisser Archer takes it upon himself to climb up there and fetch another pair down again.
Regardless, we’re required to wear our uniforms today as the tour takes place, and our friend Melanie here has around a half hour before the new students roll in.
