Instead, he popped the lever on his seat, springing it back up. Dug around in his console again, this time fishing out a single, waving it around.
I came up to sitting, too.
“Ever heard of them?”
On the paper cover was the band name, Violent Femmes, and a photo of a barefoot little girl dressed in a dress, peering through a window. Edgy.
“No. We only get the Top Forty songs here on the radio.” I rolled my eyes, pretending to be put out by that.
“Well, Nellie, you’re in for a treat. I havesomany songs to teach you about.”
He jammed the cassette into the deck, then twisted the knob so that it wasn’t as loud as when they pulled up. The guitar sounded jangly, the singer’s voice all raw, and the lyrics dark…but funny? It was about a loner, but a badass loner. I swayed in my seat to the music, acted like I wassointo it, that I understood it.
“But this one, ‘Kiss Off,’ this song could be your theme song,” Luke said after he turned it off. “Better yet—here, it’s yours.” He popped it out of the tape deck, slapped it in my hands.
And now I’m listening to it over and over, not quite believing that this boy sent from heaven gave it to me. Not that I really believe in heaven. I mean, let’s get real. But that he could look inside my black heart and see me so clearly… I will never get rid of it; I’ll sleep with it next to me because he touched it and it’s a gift from him tome.
When we climbed out of the car, everyone was looking at us.
Blair especially, her arms crossed across her chest like she was sulking. I nearly peed my pants, I was so happy.
But there was Julia. She was glaring at me with those eyes of hers. Whatever.
Also Dustin.Ugh.
Luke high-fived me, and I wobbled back to my car, fuzzy from the weed.Deliriousfrom Luke.
Drunk, Dustin shouted after me, “Hey, Nellie, what the fuck? You aren’t leaving yet, are you?”
I’ll pay for it later, but I couldn’t help myself, especially after he called Luke a gay rod. I didn’t stop and turn around, just raised my arm and gave him the finger in front of everyone. Burned him.
31
Charleigh
Charleigh peels Alexander’s arm off her as stealthily as she can, then slips from the bed.
Pale morning light nudges through the curtains.
It’s dawn; she needs to pee but doesn’t want to wake him, so she tiptoes to the bathroom, practically floating across the carpet.
Alexander’s been all over her since their spat after the fish fry.
Feral.
Wanting it all the time.
Not that she doesn’t, and she loves his hunger for her, but, whew, the man needs to give it a rest. Givehera rest.
The day after the fish fry, when she stumbled in hungover from Jackson’s, she rode with Alexander downtown, not a word exchanged between them.
He dropped her at the salon so she could get her hair done while he stocked up on ammo at Smithy’s.
They were barely home and through the back door when he came up behind her, lacing his arm around her belly, lifting her skirt.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Nellie’s not home.” He panted in her ear.
