“Crap.” I looked around for napkins or something. “Um. Be right back.”
Landon thumbed the water off my chin. “You need help?”
“I’ll be okay. Just give me a second.”
The locker rooms were shut, so I had to make my way to the South Hall bathrooms. Chapel Hill High School didn’t have paper towel dispensers, only air dryers, so I went into the third stall to grab some toilet paper.
I dried off the front of my jacket as best I could, and then my pants where I’d gotten a big wet spot right around my zipper. If I’d been wearing black it wouldn’t have shown up that much, but on my light blue suit the dark spots were noticeable.
Noticeable, and deeply suspicious.
I rubbed at the spots, but the flimsy single-ply toilet paper in use at Chapel Hill High School just broke apart into little white pearls of debris.
What was the point and purpose of single-ply toilet paper?
“Hey. No jerking off at school, Dairy Queen.”
I spun around and banged my shin on the toilet bowl, which was great.
Trent Bolger was at the sinks, washing his hands and looking at me in the mirror.
I always pictured Trent Bolger as the kind of guy who never washed his hands after going to the bathroom.
“Leave me alone, Trent.”
I brushed the little white crumbs off my pants and went to wash my hands at the farthest sink from Trent’s.
I hadn’t done anything, but I still had to wash my hands when I’d been in a bathroom.
It was a thing.
Trent stuck his hands under the dryer. “Having fun with your boy?”
It was an innocuous question, but nothing about Trent Bolger was ever innocuous.
“Yes.” The only other hand dryer was right next to Trent, and I didn’t want the water to get onto my cuffs.
He gave me this sidelong look, and then he said, “Did you paint your nails?”
“Yeah.”
He snorted—an alarming experience, given the size of his nostrils. “I don’t know what Chip sees in you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t act like you can’t tell. He’s got such a boner for you.”
I swallowed.
“Chip is my friend. Sorry if you’re jealous or whatever.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “Hardly. Chip and me, we’ve been friends forever. And we’re family now. I’ll still be here, long after he gets over you.”
He pushed past me, slamming my shoulder on his way out.
“Later, D-Cheese.”
THE FORESKINNED FIDDLE
