Page 3 of Maddox
Her fingers tap the wheel, and she mouths to the music, but I feel the tension vibrating beneath her skin.
It can’t be me. So, what is it?
The town limits recede in the distance, and I glance in the mirror, hoping I’m not making a big mistake. Shit. Maybe shedoeshide bodies in her backyard.
Once we enter the highway, I glance at her sideways. I heard her dad’s clubhouse is on the outskirts of town. She’s not really taking me there. Right?
Hm. So far, Joey hasn’t said much when it comes to my coming and going but in this, I think he might pull his head out of the bottle long enough to berate me.
It's too late now. I guess I’ll take the licks if it means finally getting what I want. Waiting around for him to do it would be useless. He doesn’t care.
Finally, she slows and pulls down a dirt road. At the end is a one-story home with black shutters, a series of red planters adorning the porch and a huge black dog.
He raises his head and thumps his tail once before dropping back to the wood.
Draven cuts the engine and exits before I can comment which is just as well because the only thing, I’ve got going is shock.
Somehow this sweet little house is not what I imagined.
Inside, the home is no less put together, and I eye the couch facing a fireplace, above which a painting of a woman who looks remarkably like Draven hangs.
The kitchen contains gleaming stainless-steel appliances and glossy dark cabinets.
Down the hall we go, passing two closed doors before she opens the second to last and stomps through.
Here is where I find the look of Draven with black walls, a slate gray comforter and every available surface from walls to furniture plastered in artwork featuring death in one form or another.
After dropping my bag, I stop on a piece and peruse the lifelike detail of the grim reaper, standing over a girl with her head raised in defiance.
“Did you draw these?” I ask, awed by the details.
When she grunts, I eye her and murmur, “They’re really good.”
Avoiding my gaze, she plops to the floor. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got a date with a big dick later.”
I’m not sure what to say, and instead, I sit across from her and fold my hands in my lap.
“What?” she mutters.
“What do you need help with?”
“Algebra. Mr. Matthews said he’d fail my ass if I don’t pass the next test.”
Truthfully, I’m not sure why she cares because from what I’ve seen, she blows off most school related activities in favor of getting high and partying.
What’s caused the change? It’s not my business though.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Okay, algebra. Um, let’s start with what you know.”
When she stares at me blankly, I sigh. “Where are you at in the notes?”
After grabbing her tablet, we walk through some of the problems and my stomach sinks.
She’s retained nothing from the class, which means I have to start from scratch. This is going to be harder than I thought and pulling out a notepad, I start with the basics, but I’ve barely gotten going when she leans back and groans, “This is useless.”
“No, it’s not. Just walk through it with me.”
Snorting, she rolls away and grabs a box from beneath her bed. “You’ll say anything to get paid.”
