25
JILLIE
Damon’s a total tool. He acts like talking to us is him doing us a favor.
“Whatever, dude,” I mutter. “Forget it. We’ll figure something else out.”
We start to walk away, and he reaches out to grab my hand. “Wait. Hold up.”
I turn around, brow lifted. “What?”
“If you hadn’t called me scum, I might’ve said yes right away.”
I glare. “You are scum. Who leaves a teenage girl knocked up like that and doesn’t give a shit what happens?”
Audrey steps forward. “Scum, that’s who. And I have no love for Ellen, but Damon, you’re one cold asshole.”
He sneers. “She wouldn’t even go public. Like I wasn’t good enough for her friends to know about us. Then when this happened, shestillwanted to keep it a secret, so I told her to fuck off.” He shifts on the edge of the fountain outside one of the local churches. “Besides, she got her boy to help her out.”
“I see,” I say. “You were her dirty little secret. Just as I thought. Well, I’m going to be honest with you, Damon. What I’m doing is basically using you to get a reaction out of her. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but she’s messing up my life, and I need to find out why.”
“And you think my being there will get her to tell you?” He laughs. “Not likely.”
“Probably not.” I shrug. “But it’s worth a try. It’ll at least get her riled up.”
“Ya know, I don’t want to help you. But I do want to see what happens when we’re in the same place again. Am I supposed to pretend I don’t know you?” he asks.
“Nope. I’m not ashamed to have friends of all races.”
“And that’sexactlywhat it is. She’s been groomed to be a racist rich bitch, but I didn’t see her giving a shit what color my skin was when she was sucking my dick,” he seethes.
I cringe. “I’m sorry.”
He waves me off.
“No, really. I’m sorry. I don’t understand racism. I was raised to respect everyone unless they showed me differently,” I tell him. I really don’t understand how she could sleep with him, be that intimate with him, yet treat him like a stranger unless it was some sort of game.
“When you wanna do this?” he asks, looking at the text that came through on his phone.
“Can you do tomorrow? I know Monday’s are shit, so why don’t we make hers even shittier like she did to me a couple weeks ago,” I offer.
“Cool. I’ve got independent study first hour so I can skip. Want me to meet you in the parking lot?”
I nod. “That’d be so great. I’ll pay for your gas. It’s so far out of your way.”
“Nah. I got green. I work,” he says.
“Okay. But if you change your mind…”
“I won’t—on either count. See you mañana.”
As he walks away, I’m finally calm enough to get a good look at him. He’s tall, lanky, muscular, and tatted up. The wife beater, baggy jeans, and Chucks are stereotypical of a gang member, but I think he likes it that way. I admire that.
“He’s pretty hot,” Audrey says.
I nod. “She really did a number on him.”
“He’s got short, neat, black hair; great skin—no acne, he’s built, and really handsome. What’s her fucking problem?” Isla is understandably upset. She’s dating Carlos who’s also Hispanic. The racism is getting to her—hurting her and angering her.
I gasp. Isla saying the F word just shocks me. She doesn’t do it often, so when she does, it’s telling.
“We’re about to be,” I tell Isla, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Audrey follows suit. “She’s going to regret messing with us.”
I just want to get to the bottom of this so I can step out of the nightmare I stepped into two weeks ago.
