The muscles in his jaw tick. “I’m as crazy as you say.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend that you listen to anything I say.” My words are a lie, and I know it. I’m sure he takes what I say home to dissect it and throw it back in my face. “Did you finally get caught lighting children on fire?”
He doesn’t react to either of my comments. “No. I sent someone into a coma.”
“Why?” I push off the wall and close the distance so our chests touch. I feel him stiffen as I look him straight in the eye. “They called you stupid, Osman?”
“He touched something that didn’t belong to him.” A dark look settles on his face, as if he’s seconds away from killing someone. There’s no hesitation when he says it, just steel resolve and the promise that, given the opportunity, he’d do it again.
Still, he’s an asshole. Nothing he can do will change the fact that the damage is already done, and there are no broken pieces for me to pick up.
“Boys and their toys.” I slip out from under him and point to one of the many doors down the hall. “Your class is there. Stay the fuck away from me, Kohen.”
The last thing I hear before I hide in the closest bathroom is the deep tenor of his voice, echoing down the hallway. “You wish, Thief.”
“He’s kind of cute.”
I glare at Charlie, stabbing the restaurant-quality asparagus with a wooden spork. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
“He’s just so… big.” She bites the inside of her cheek in a poor attempt at hiding her blush, gazing at him as he stands in the cafeteria line with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, balancing his tray with a single hand. But Charlie is most definitely right. Heisbig. I mean, the white button-up uniform is literally straining to contain his bulging biceps.
I’m clearly not the only one who’s noticing, because Sarah and her posse of pretentious bitches haven’t torn their eyes off him and his stupidly handsome face since he showed up this morning. Scratch that; the entire school hasn’t stopped staring—boys included. But I’m not sure if the guys are eying him up to gauge whether he’s a threat,or if they’re questioning their sexuality.
“And his face?” Charlie whistles.
I clap my hands in front of her face to stop her from ogling the literal bane of my existence. “He’s a fucking pyromaniac, Charlie.”
She pulls on her box-dyed black hair five times, then pops it in her mouth and sucks on it, giving me an innocent glance. Her eyes wander back to him, and she goes all dreamy. “I’m sure he has redeeming qualities.”
“Zero. Nada. None.” I shake my head. She’s the only person I tolerate in this hellhole, and right now, I’m about to reconsider whether sitting with this loose cannon is a good idea.
“Did you hear me when I said he’s abusive? Pushes me around? Keeps trying to choke me?” Not to mention he lit my hair on fire when we were kids, broke into my house and started going through my stuff, and left me a dead bird on my front porch then had the audacity to ask if I liked his present. Let’s not forget the time he stole some of my clothes after PE and left a knife in my locker a couple years back. Oh, and also all the horrendous shit that comes out of his mouth every day.
“Really?” She whips her attention back to me, and her eyes widen with… fucking excitement? Jesus Christ, clearly that wasn’t the deterrent I thought it would be.
A string of extra bad boyfriends landed her in this place after the last one convinced her to start dealing, and then she tried gouging his eye out when he cheated on her in her own bed.
Her reaction was justified, if you ask me.
I’d love to see her try to fight Kohen, but unfortunately, she’s the size of my pinky, and her mood swings aren’t her only issues. On the bright side, when we blow up at each other and she lashes out at me,I can hold her back by putting a hand on her forehead.
The only reason we keep coming back to each other is because we’re both broke, and she’s not a recluse by choice. Apparently, her ability to cry and go berserk just because someone looks at her weirdly doesn’t make her the most popular person.
“You think he knows where we can score?” Charlie whispers.
If I’m being honest with myself, this place isn’t all bad. I’m fed, I have electricity, running hot water, and security that no one is going to steal my shit. Plus, I’m not about to run into either of my parents or their equally screwed-up friends.
On the downside—or up, depending on how you look at it—I haven’t had a proper bender in two months.However, where there are spoiled, rich kids, there are drugs. Except this whole cashless-campus “bank transfer only” is cramping my style.
Butwhere there are people with drugs, there are dicks and pussies that want attention.
I’m inclined to either.
“The motherfucker is clean,” I grumble. Even if Kohen knew where to score, it would be a cold day in hell before he recommends anything.
As if he senses my stare, he turns my way. My heartbeat stutters before I flip him the bird and mouth, “Asshole.”
Boris shoots me a warning look, and I send him the same message I sent Kohen. Except Boris leaves his supervisor’s post by the cafeteria door and walks toward me, reaching for the taser at his side.
