“Boyfriend.” Lawson shakes his head, dismayed.
“Knew it.” I force a laugh. “You’re into Harper, and you think that by annoying me with your presence she’ll fall headfirst into that micropenis of yours.”
His jaw goes slack as he takes a quick look around. “Would you stop with the micropenis talk? Geez.” He tucks his head back a notch to get a better look at me—most likely because he’s in awe of my sexual sleuthing skills. I’m a sex ninja in that respect. I can spot a prospective couple a mile away. My stomach knots up as if something warranted a red flag.
“And you’re wrong, by the way.” He squints out the window as evening falls hard over campus. “I’m not into Harper. She’s my little sister, and unlike some people”—he nods to where Ava and Grant were seated—“I respect my position.”
“What position is that?” I avert my eyes at the thought. “The missionary position? Or let me guess, a dog like you prefers to come in hard from behind.”
Those jade eyes of his widen. “Are you this charming to everyone, or is this something special just for me?” He pulls Harper’s abandoned drink forward and shakes the ice as if it’s a threat.
“I save all of my charisma and grace for you, my sweet prince.” I bat my lashes so fast I could put out a forest fire. “Charisma—let me use that in a sentence for you. My charisma brings all the psychotic boys to the yard. That would be you, by the way.”
“Charisma?” he huffs. “More like crazy. Let me use that in a sentence—you save all of your crazy for me.”
“Trust me, I’m not crazy for you.” A smug little grin settles on my lips from my masterful play on words.
“That’s right. You’re just plain crazy.”
“How do you know I don’t find that offensive? What if insanity runs in my family and you’ve just bruised the deepest part of my heart for being so glib about it?”
“I’m not glib.” He shakes his head at the empty booth across from us. “And believe me, insanity very much runs in your family. Case in point.” He jabs his finger in my direction.
As much as I’d like a stinging barb to come flying from my mouth, I think on this a moment. My father had issues—deep, disturbing issues that involved domestic violence and his love for a never-ending bottle of vodka. My mother and our little deceased secret come flooding back…
“Whoa.” Lawson shifts and groans, but I’m too deep in my familial trance to care. “Hey.” His arm falls over my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just—I thought we had this thing where we toss insults back and forth.”
“We toss insults?” I blink up at him. “That’s ourthing?”
“Yeah, you know, you call me micropenis, and I—” His brows furrow as if grasping for a micropenis straw.
“You call me princess.” It takes everything in me not to gloat over that one. I’d much rather be an heir to royalty than a microscopic member of the male anatomy.
“That’s right.” He’s back to being sour again.
The stench of a thousand dying roses clutters up my senses as a perky little blonde pops up with her sights set on Lawson.
“Janelle.” He straightens as he says her name. “Is Knox here?”
“Nope.” Her voice is so high-pitched I’m half-tempted to let her know there’s a helium shortage and to lay off the balloons. She giggles for no apparent reason, and her cheeks blush a harsh shade of crimson as if all of the red blood cells in her body rushed to that deep tissue performance. “I was wondering if you could show me to the Black Bear. I’ve got a study group there in an hour, and I’ve looked all over campus and can’t seem to find it.”
“It’s a bar,” I flatline. “Nobody has a study group in a bar, sweetheart.” Honest to God, I can’t recall a single sarcastic instance where I’ve actually referenced another girl in such a sexually derogatory manner, although, coming from another female probably doesn’t count even if I did mean every derogatory ounce of it.
“Well, I do.” Her Disney-inspired voice hikes up all the way to the top of the Matterhorn. I swear on all that is holy, I half-expect Mickey himself to run in with a net and haul her back to the magic mushroom kingdom from where she escaped. On second thought, she’s more like the long-lost fourth Chipmunk. I’m half-tempted to pluck a five-dollar bill out of my pocket and ask her to sing “Christmas Don’t Be Late”.
“I’ll take you.” Lawson stands before glaring down at me. “We were just wrapping things up.”
“And who is this?” She gifts us another frenetic giggle, but there’s something about that piercing glare of hers that clues me into the fact she’s not as sweet and innocent as she seems. Sometimes only a female can recognize the schemes of another female, and this girl is scheming with the ever-loving best of them.
I hold a hand up as if to sayI’ve got this. “I’m Lawson’s favorite ex-girlfriend. We started dating right out of the womb, only to end in a bloodbath senior year. According to him, I’m highly frigid, but in truth, his pet turtle has a bigger head than he does.” I hold my hand to the side of my mouth as if to shield his view. “You need a microscope and tweezers to see it!” I do my best to whisper-shout because what’s the use of doing ourthingif Lawson isn’t able to appreciate it?
They take off, and I hear her inquire about his pet turtle.
“Never had one!” he shouts as they hit the exit.
I can’t help but stare at the two of them as they’re swallowed by the murky darkness.
Just who is this little whore, and what does she really want with my micropenis?
