Page 17 of Secrets That Bind Us
I hate that. I glare at Will– my best friend since second grade. He started calling her that after she started dressing in hoodies to hide her chest, always hunched over a book or writing. Like I didn’t catch him checking her out at last year’s carnival. He knows she’s not fat. She’s got fucking healthy, thick, strong thighs. Softball thighs– the only sport she plays at school. Sure, she has wider hips, but she’s… fuck. She’s fucking perfect. The way Mama Marie feeds us, even I’ve gained a few pounds– but I haven’t gotten teased for it. In fact – I’ve gotten praised for it.
Guys are weird.
“Shut your stupid fucking mouth before I kick your stupid teeth in,Billiam.” I growl. “She’s not fat she’s…” Ripe. Juicy. Thick and toned. Lovely. Funny. A spitfire. But I don’t want him to see what I see. She’s mine. “Perfect for me.”
“Only you would fall for a fucking nerd.”
“Yeah? And who in your shit-for-brains head, is perfect then?”
He shrugs, watching the road. “Lacy, probably.”
I scrunch up my nose at him. “Lacy does blow so she won’t eat and gain weight and not fit into her cheer uniform. She’s all bones. Her skin is fucked, so she wears too much makeup. Her eyes are hollowed out, and her hair looks brittle. She’s got no ass, no hips-“
“But her tits arehuge.” He interrupts with a bark.
I roll my eyes. So are Verity’s… I think. I don’t know. But I felt them against me today, and they felt like C-cups, maybe. They looked great at the carnival. I wonder if she’d wear that dress just for me again? Ohhhh… A plan was forming. A date. I need to take her on a date.
“You’re fucking dumb, Will. Book smart, sure. But damn, you’re dumb. A girl like Lacy will fuck up your entire future.”
“Then who should I go for, huh?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Evelyn Sinclair.”
He stops at the stop sign a little too hard, making the SUV lurch. “The fucking emo girl?”
“You both like the same music. You’re just too jockish– but I think she’d be great for you. She’s smart, funny and cute. She’s artistic - wants to be an interior designer. Besides, being emo is probably just a phase.”
He scoffs. "And you know all of this…how?”
“She’s friends with Verity and Zoey. They’re all fucking artsy and shit. We went to an art festival last weekend in Austin. It was dope.”
“That’swhy you missed my party? You were hanging out with nerds?”
“You’ll have another party. And they’re not nerds.” Okay– yeah, they’re kind of nerds.
“Are you gonna miss the race to hang out with your Humpback virgin?” I clock my fist back, ready to fucking strike. “Fuck! Alright! Quit it! Shit. I’m driving, dick.” He huffs and hunches over the steering wheel so he can see better. Looking like a big-back gorilla linebacker. Little bitch.
I bring my fist down. “No, I already paid to enter.” So maybe I lied a little bit to Verity about how I make my real money on the side. I mean, yeah– Sundays I help out at my uncle’s auto shop after church, working on bike’s. Maybe sometimes I help strip cars while my dad looks the other way. Maybe that’s the entire reason my dad became Sheriff. Little things here and there took you a long way in a small town.
If only I’d known I was slowly purchasing tickets to our fucking downfall.
Chapter Nine
Verity
Present Day
“Whoa, what is this stuff?”
I smile. “Mama’s old record player and her vinyls. That–” I point to the Magnavox in the corner, “-is my old boom box CD player. The box beside it should be CDs.”
She heads to the corner and reaches inside. “Mom, you listened toGreenday? Taking Back Sunday? My Chemical Romance? Nirvana?”
I laugh. “I still do.”
Her mouth falls open in shock, and a part of me feels like maybe– I might be a little cool in her eyes again. Like maybe she isn’t annoyed with me for once. “Can I… keep some of this stuff?”
Pride surges through me, but I contain it. I give a little nonchalant nod and gesture tomyold stuff– my stuff my kid thinks iscool. “Have at it. Just let me know what you do and don’t want so I can throw it out, okay?”
