Wyn looks at me then and winks, a small smile playing at her lips.
Oh, she’s bad.
And I’m bad too so I wink back and chirp, “Because you’re diabolical. And you’re always talking about how much you wanna kill him and that you wouldn’t mind if they sent you to prison for it either.”
It’s true.
Poe has vowed to kill her guardian and I’m pretty sure with her evil, troublemaking mind, she can do it and never get caught.
Poe, however, glares at the both of us. “I wouldn’t. Just so you know. Even though I don’t think that orange is the new black and I don’t think I’m gonna look good in it, I’d still do it. I’d still stab his chest with my six-inch Prada heels – you know, the ones with suede that I really love – and I’d watch him bleed out and then when he’s all dead and buried, I’d dance on his grave. Mark my words.”
I purse my lips so I don’t laugh out loud at her murderous expression, crazy eyes and flushed cheeks.
Somehow I manage to say, all serious-like, “But you hate dancing, Poe.”
Poe is about to snap at me when Wyn interjects again. “Yeah, Poe, you hate dancing. You say your boobs hit your face when you jump around too much.”
I grin at Wyn and she grins back.
Again Poe is about to snap but again, she gets waylaid. This time by Salem.
“They’re excellent boobs though,” she says, raising her hand and jumping into the conversation while looking at Poe’s chest.
I look at Poe’s boobs and Salem is right. Her boobs are excellent.
Poe has a naturally curvy body, big boobs, slim waist and wide hips, sort of like those eighties pin-up girls, and yes, I’m definitely jealous of her.
“Yeah, they’re excellent,” I agree, nodding and looking at my own tiny ones.
“Right? I mean, I’d kill for boobs like that,” Salem says enviously.
Salem and I, we’re the same body type, small and athletic. Courtesy of her being a soccer player.
I have to say that even though I grew up around soccer, I’ve never really been friends with a female soccer player.
“As much as I like you guys talking about my boobs, because let’s face it, they are excellent,” Poe says, pointing to them, “I have bigger problems right now.”
Getting serious, Salem bites her lip. “Sorry.”
I get serious too. “Yeah, sorry. Tell us what’s wrong.”
Wyn puts down her sketchbook, meaning she’s paying attention, and all three of us lean toward Poe, eager to hear her story.
She blows out a breath, making her thick dark bangs flutter. “I can’t go out this weekend. Miller took away my outing privileges. Again.”
“What? Why?” I ask, outraged.
“I don’t know, something I did last year. Maybe because I put a rat in her office.”
Yeah, that.
Poe snuck a rat into her guidance counselor Miss Miller’s office last year.
I have no idea where she got the rat from — probably on one of her rare outings — and how she managed to hide it from all of us. Until Miller screamed in the middle of a very peaceful school day and ran out of her room.
“Well, that was last year though. Can’t she let it go?” Wyn asks.
“No.” Poe mimics Miller’s nasally voice, “‘Because as you know the school policy is that all grievances get carried over to the next semester. So I’m going to have to revoke your outing privileges until midterms.’ Fucking bitch.”
