Page 57 of Reckless At Raleigh High
“That shit won’t work on me, asshole. I’m flat broke, and besides, I doubt your daddy’s feeling very litigious. He’s got more important things to worry about. Now get the hell out of this school before I call the cops.”
Jacob runs both of us through with a viciously sharp glare. “You think this is gonna last? Seriously? I’ll be back before the end of the week. You’ll see. Yeah, you’ll fucking see.”
He charges for the exit, pausing halfway down the hall to piledrive his fist into a locker door, his shout of rage loud enough to wake the dead. More amused than upset, I realize that it’s my locker he’s just dented, and I begin to laugh quietly under my breath.
“I mean it, Moretti.” Mr. French pants, his shoulders hitching up and down, probably from the adrenalin that’s just hit him square in the chest. “Get to class. I swear on my dead grandmother’s grave, I amsosick of this shit.”
28
SILVER
“Hedidn’t.”
I snap off a piece of Red Vine, digging my fingernail into the red, gummy candy. “Hedid. And then he insisted on walking home in a rage instead of just taking my car.”
“Wow. I can’t picture your dad going full psycho like that. He’s always seemed so…un-provoke-able,” Halliday says, inspecting her split ends. Zander hums, laying down on the backseat of the Nova, sticking his booted feet out of the open window. Gradually, he seems to be surrendering his preppy disguise and his true colors are bleeding through. He’s still sporting a button-down shirt, but his chinos are gone, traded out with semi-smart looking black jeans. I’m guessing by the end of the week he’s gonna be rocking a band tee, and the clean-cut image he’s been trying to project will be gone completely. “I can totally see it,” he says, prodding a finger at a small hole in the fabric of the Nova’s roof.
“Don’t rip that.” I fix a disapproving stare on him in the rearview mirror. He drops his hand to his rest on his chest.
“I saw how crazy Papa Parisi got when that prick hurt your dog. He lost his shit at the vet’s. Makes sense that he’d go nuclear on Darhower at the thought of Weaving anywhere near you again.”
Halliday dips her head, squinting harder at the spiky ends of her hair; I haven’t mentioned her very obvious reactions every time Zander opens his mouth to speak, but it’s becoming hard to hold back. She either has a thing for him or she’s terrified of him, one of the two.
The wind moans across the parking lot, shaking the stand of trees that lead down to the dell, making their boughs dance. My heart damn near skips out of my chest when I see the dark figure, shoulders hunched up around his ears, jogging toward us across the cracked black top. Alex pulls a face when he sees that Halliday has claimed his spot in the passenger seat. He mumbles unhappily under his breath as he wrenches the rear door open, slapping Zander’s feet out of the way as he slides into the car.
His cheeks are red from the cold, his dark eyes bright, hair a little tousled, and I suddenly resent the fact that there are two other people in this car. I want him all to myself. I want him some place dark and quiet, where I can unwrap him slowly like the gift that he is and savor every tiny, quirky detail of him. He smirks at me, catching the edge of his lower lip between his teeth, and pinpricks of heat tingle across the top of my chest.
“Gross,” Zander states. “If I’d known swooning was on the agenda, I would’ve brought something to vomit into.”
“Move.” Alex shoves at his legs, trying to push him further over. “If any part of you is touching me by the time I take off my jacket, you’re gonna wind up bruised.”
Zander rights himself in his seat, sitting up properly. “Oh, we can be matching,” he says, poking a finger at the purple shadow that’s rising on Alex’s cheekbone. “What happened? Lemme guess. You walked into a doorframe.”
Quick as lightning, Alex grabs Zander’s finger and bends it back, growling. “The fuck’s wrong with you? Do you havenosense of self-preservation?”
Oh my god. Now I know how my parents felt when I used to brawl with Max on the backseat. “Just behave, both of you, or I’m gonna turn the heating off.”
Zander wrenches his finger free, shaking his hand out, silently mouthing the word,fuck. “Don’t worry,Argento. This is how he shows me that he loves me.”
Alex thumps him hard, giving him a dead leg. “Only I get to call her that.”
I have to take control of this situation now, before things get out of hand. “Zander, what did you wanna talk to us about?” I hold up the ratty piece of paper I found in my locker after History, showing him the scrawl of his own handwriting, which reads:
Group chat.
Lunch.
Muy importante.
-Zander
I wasn’t sure who he’d meant by group—presumably just me, Alex and himself—but he didn’t object to Halliday’s presence when he got in the car. Zander snags the note from my hand, tucking it into his jeans pocket as though he’s planning on reusing it later. “I heard about the Weaving situation last night when I was working at the Rock.”
Alex clenches his jaw, turning to look out of the window; the very mention of the Rock is uncomfortable for him.
“Monty’s pretty pissed at you, man,” Zander continues. “He wants a sit-down. Things are getting ugly with the Dreadnaughts. I’m not sure how long I’ll on task at Raleigh, casing the place for your boss.”
“He isn’t my boss anymore.”
