She gave him a half smile, then got to her feet.
Kaia caught her hand. “We can still be together until I leave. And I might not leave. Or go to London. I might be accepted into an art school in New York or LA.”
“Closer but still long-distance,” she said morosely.
“Babe—”
“It’s okay, Kaia. Part of the reason I want you to stay is so selfish,” she admitted.
“And that is?”
“I don’t want to be alone again with only Mattie as my friend. Maybe Harley, I don’t know yet. They even stopped Bishop from talking to me for a little while. We’re friendlyagain, but it isn’t the same. CJ has girlfriends. He’s been on dates. He’s even had a blowjob.”
True, but it still shocked Kaia that she knew about that.
“Momma wantsmeto go to college, too. She says there’s more to life than the club and dating.”
“There is, but in college you’ll also be away from your dad and brothers.”
Rebel snapped her brows together and plopped down again, seemingly overwhelmed by his words. “I didn’t think of that.”
“If you choose a school on the other side of the country, you’ll have no interference with dating or clubbing—a different type than the MC—or anything you want to experience. You could spread your wings freely.”
“I’ll just have two years to live in my prison, watching as the boys do whatever they wanted while I’m cloistered away.”
Kaia grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. “So are you still my Huahua?”
Rebel smiled. “Yes, Kaia. I am.” She kissed his cheek, got to her feet, and went to her room without looking back.
April 2nd
“Who can describe the shape of DNA?”
CJ looked around, wondering if anyone would answer Billson’s question. He’d expected the teacher to begin allowing them to practice their presentations. Since he had to return to Skye’s place tonight to complete their submission, he was happy they were discussing something else.
“Anyone?” The teacher gazed at everyone, his lifted brow calling them unenthused motherfuckers on the down low. “Can anyone tell me what DNA stands for?”
Absolutesilence.
“This will be on your exams, people,” Mr. Billson said irritably. “You should know this. Several of you are entering DNA centered projects into the science fair. You can’t tell me you’re working blindly.”
Yep, that’s exactly what the fuck they could say. Or not say. Because there wasn’t a motherfucking peep.
“What four letters are the language of life?”
CJ glowered. If someone didn’t fucking open their mouths, Mr. Billson would spring a pop quiz on them. He was of the opinion that if students were too shy to speak up in class, they might do better with a fucking test sprung on them.
Absolutely not. It rarely fucking worked, which just led to longer fucking tests.
“What do the letters stand for?”
CJ drummed his fingers on the desk.
“What makes up the shape of DNA that none of you can describe?”
And there the fuck it was. The fifth fucking question. The one that signaled he was on the verge of calling for the quiz.
Fuck, fine.
