Page 34 of Run For Me
It’ll cost me. There’s also a risk of getting even further on my father’s bad side, but isn’t that what sons are for?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Him
I knock on the white fiberglass front door, which opens seconds later. I plaster a smile on my face the minute his dorky face comes into view.
“Hiya, Greenberg!” I step in, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him a big, bright grin, not allowing any room for him to kick me out.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” he asks, staring at me, hand on the knob like he’s afraid of closing the door with me in here.
“Just need a little favor.” I shrug and shove my hands into my front pockets. He doesn’t actually have any reason to be afraid of me. Not because of me, anyway. Dear old daddy won’t be happy, but that’s not my problem.
“I can’t,” he says, shaking his head. “My father sa—”
“Who cares what your father said? Come on, Green Bean. We’re pals. Have been since we were little kids.”
He stares at me like I’ve grown a leg from the top of my head that is wiggling its toes at him in a hello.
He’s thinking about it though. I see the gears working behind those muddy brown eyes.
“No,” he says, but it sounds like a question.
“It’s one little favor,” I add, keeping my tone as nice as possible. I can’t lose my patience just yet. I have to plead a little. “Just one. I’ll owe you.”
“Owe me what, exactly?” He tilts his head to the side, his grip on the knob shifting.
“Whatever you want,” I respond simply.
“Anything?” he questions, sliding his Jeffrey Dahmer glasses up his nose.
“Anything,” I assure him, already knowing what he’s going to ask.
There’s a reason Baron Greenberg doesn’t want his innocent little son hanging out with me. It’s true we’ve been friends since we were kids. At least, we used to be friends. Our fathers went to college together and stayed in the same circles. Went to the same parties, same friends, that sort of thing. His father became a lawyer, while mine gave that up and chose to teach. No clue why, but only a few short years later, he was already Dean of the shit ass college I attend.
My father is the only reason this little shit is able to attend college. Most others wouldn’t take him with the record he has—indecent exposure, harassment, and all that good shit. Of course, it was all on the condition that little Orville here had to live in his own house and take day classes. He’s not allowed on campus after dark. This, of course, isn’t public information, though it probably should be, but it’s all about the people you know. And since Baron is in with my mother… well, he gets his way too.
Baron had a distaste for me the moment I hit puberty. It’s almost like he knew his kid wouldn’t amount to what a Greenberg should be, while I surpassed the expectations of my family, both in smarts and looks.
Orville is a scrawny little thing, pale with red hair, freckles, and glasses that went out of style fifty years ago. My father has shared that the Greenbergs have had multiple paternity tests done, just to be sure, because he’s the only redhead ever… so they say.
Still, the little twat is one of the best hackers I’ve ever met—and he is 100% a Greenberg, for the record. According to all the tests, anyway.
“There’s a girl in my calculus class...”
He’s also hands down the biggest horndog I’ve ever met. It’s true the charges on him weren’t exactly his fault. It’s not like he waved his dick around in front of a child or grabbed some random chick’s tit. He was drunk, lost his pants, and fell on top of an old lady. Still, boundaries for him are a little grey. Problem is that my boundaries are non-existent.
“Done.”
“You don’t even know who she is,” he says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. I try not to cringe as he wipes snot on his shirt.
“Don’t need to. I’m good for it and you know it. Just give me her info on the way out.” I shrug again. “But if I find out—”
“You won’t!” he shouts. “You know that was all a misunderstanding.”
I raise a brow and point a finger at him. “Don’t disappoint me, Orville.”
He nods and closes the front door, shutting out the cold air that was breezing in. It’s cold as hell today. He locks the bottom lock, deadbolt, and chain like he’s preparing for the damn zombie apocalypse. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that were his excuse for why he does it.
