Page 100

Drew

My eyes stayed down as the cold water helped wash the soot and ash from my skin, my legs carrying me fast across the distance from my house to Aspen’s.

I waved to Raphael who was sitting on his front porch, who waved back, and then pointed to the side where the boy who’d sprayed me with a fire extinguisher stared at me from the front seat of his truck. He had a friend with him, who was looking at the boy like he was insane.

The truck, incidentally, still had a huge crack in the windshield from the extinguisher his mom threw at it.

“You’re a fucking douche bag, you know that?” The boy yelled through his open window.

My brows rose, and I paused, turning fully to look at the boy.

“I’m the douchebag?” I asked him. “What about you? I never asked to be sprayed with a fire extinguisher.”

The boy lifted his lip in a snarl, then turned the light bar on his truck, trying to blind me.

“You know who I am, right?” I asked.

I was just being sure he knew before he got himself too far into the fire.

He flipped me off. “I don’t give a fuck who you are.”

I started laughing then.

“Yeah,” I said. “You will care when I decide to press charges against you.”

He snapped.

“Prove it, motherfucker. You don’t got nothin’ on me,” he said, tossing the door to his truck open, sliding out, and stalking around it to come to a stop in front of me.

My brows rose.

“How old are you?” I asked. “Sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen?”

He bared his teeth.

“What does it matter to you?” He challenged, the rain drenching his body, revealing the bones of ribs and the lankiness of his body that only a teenager that hadn’t grown into his body still had.

“What matters to me is that I know your parents don’t give you the discipline that you need. I wouldn’t have gone about doing what your mother did the other day, but at least she did something. My kid ever did anything like what you did to me and I would’ve had her truck. Then she would’ve been grounded. Not to mention she’d be lucky if she ever saw the light of day again,” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest.

The boy’s eyes narrowed.

“Who are you to tell me what I do and don’t need?” He growled. “You don’t know me.”

My brows rose.

“You have a brand new truck. You dress in designer clothing. You live in a nice house. You have a light bar, a lift, and tires on your truck that cost a whack. Trust me, I would be the one to know what you were given,” I pointed to my own truck that was very similar to his, yet I’d bought it and not my mommy.

Not that my mom wouldn’t have bought it for me had I wanted her to. She was always trying to do stuff for me that I could do for myself. Yet, I never took her up on the offer.

This kid, though, struck me as the type of kid that would suck his mommy’s titty until he was pried off with a halligan.

The kid bowed up, and I waited for him to throw the first punch, but reason started to leach into his eyes before he took a hasty step back.

My guess was that he finally saw I wasn’t in the mood to play.

“You’re a fucking loser,” he said, turning on his heel and heading for his truck.

I snorted out a laugh when I made my way to Aspen’s front porch, turning slightly when I heard the slam of the door meaning that the boy had gone inside, too.