Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles #3) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,126
me as leverage to get the money back.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know anything about that. But this all seems awkward now. I feel awkward.” She weakly gestured to some random spot. “I’m gonna . . . walk away now.”
Livy scurried around Max but before she could get away, Max called out, “Wait.”
“God, are you going to make this more awkward?”
“No. I just have a question.”
“What?”
“Would your mother do the same thing to you?”
Livy thought a moment before replying, “Probably.” Then she shrugged. “But that’s the way of the Yangs. Let me rephrase. That’s the way of the Yang women.”
“Would you do that?”
“No. But I’m an artist and according to our aunts, my life choices just make me an idiot they’re all ashamed of.”
Max shrugged. “But I wouldn’t do it either.”
“In all honesty, Max, you were raised by different people.”
“You were raised by Yangs.”
“But I’m also half Kowalski. No. Wait. Forget that. The Kowalskis aren’t any better. In terms of who really raised me, though . . . that would be the Jean-Louis Parkers. Kyle’s family. When I met Toni, my life changed. I changed. That’s why my mother hates them with the fire of a thousand suns.” Livy smiled, laughed a little. “She blames them for my being a—and I’m quoting here—‘loser that takes pictures.’ Aaaah. A mother’s love,” she joked. “But don’t worry about it. Your mother isn’t doing anything ultra-weird. She’s just being a honey badger.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Her cousin disappeared back down to the club and Max soon followed her.
As she went down the stairs, she saw Stevie again.
“Everything okay?” she asked. “Did you find Livy?” Stevie stopped a server going by with a tray of fancy-looking hors d’oeuvres. She took two off with a napkin and held them out for Max.
“What do I want with those?”
“They’re honey puff pastries.”
“Oooooh. Thanks, dude.” Max shoved both into her mouth at the same time and nodded. They were good.
When Max had swallowed her food, she asked her sister, “Can I borrow five bucks?”
“Hey!” Stevie called out to one of the people working the party. “Tell the DJ to forget this slow stuff. Remember, dance, dance, dance!” While she said this, she hopped on one leg, took off one of the bright orange Converse she’d taken from Max’s room, and removed a small stack of tens and twenties. She handed the whole thing to her sister.
“I’ll pay you back,” Max said.
“Whatever. I’ve got to make sure that cake arrived. I’m so proud of it!” She tugged Max’s sneaker back on and walked away.
Max tracked down Charlie. She was sitting at a small table, chatting with Kyle’s oldest sister, Toni.
When she sat down, Toni moved off and Charlie told Max, “I don’t hate her as much as I thought I did.”
Max waited for Charlie to add more about Toni. It seemed that she would add more. But other than “That’s all I have to say,” she didn’t.
The pair sat for a while until Charlie stated, “This music reminds me of riding in Pop’s car.”
“I know, right?”
Charlie glanced down at the small stack of cash that Max had laid on the table. “What’s that?”
“I owe you money.”
“Since when?”
“Not sure. But I owe you money.”
Charlie pushed it back toward Max. “Keep it.”
“It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it.”
“I owe it to you.”
“What is wrong with you?” Charlie snapped. “If I need money, I’ll ask for it.”
“Yeah, but—”
Charlie swiped up the cash and proceeded to shove Max forward so she could stuff it into her back pocket.
When Max began to argue, Charlie closed the fingers on her right hand, like she was clamping someone’s mouth shut, and snarled, “Zip it!”
The pair sat in silence for a bit until Charlie smiled and said, “Totally feel like we’re back in Pop’s car.”
* * *
Kyle had almost reached the exit when his eldest sister’s best friend, Livy, grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the club.
“I want to go home.”
“I know.” She pushed him against the bar. “And you can as soon as the rest of your siblings get here and you ooh and aah over the fucking cake. Think you can handle that?”
He blew out a breath.
“Oh, I’m so sorry people love you enough to throw you a party, Kyle.”
“You don’t have to sound so mean.”
Livy snorted. “Obviously I do. Just stop being ungrateful.”
“I’m not ungrateful. I just don’t want to be here. But, since you insist—”
Kyle jumped when he heard a symphony of thuds, and he quickly turned toward the round table a few feet away. Four women