Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,129

teeth. I know I’m being an idiot, but to be honest, it’s hard to care. The only thing that matters is the here and now. The future is an intangible possibility that I may or may not be around to see. “Boys, let’s load up and hit the Halloween store. We need fucking costumes—preferably with masks.”

The Hellhole is a spooky little shop that’s open year-round in Springfield, located in what used to be a seedy bar on Main Street. This time of year, it’s overflowing with customers, but there are plenty of Prescott students who come here to buy (or steal) shit to wear to school. Case in point: the heels with the big silver skulls on them that I’m currently wearing.

Yep, got them at the Hellhole.

It’s sort of like … the anti-Hot Topic. Like, Hot Topic is where you shop for goth shit if you go to Fuller High and live in a nice middle-class house in a nice middle-class neighborhood.

Hellhole is the place you shop when you eat middle-class kids for breakfast.

“It’s claustrophobic as fuck in here,” Aaron murmurs, looking through rubber masks on one of the walls. This place is not only packed to the gills with people, but there’s so much product in here, the aisles are barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze down. Shit is hanging from the ceiling, the walls, the ten-foot racks in the middle of the room.

I notice the sweat on Aaron’s brow, and I remember that he really is claustrophobic. On instinct, I reach out and brush some hair from his forehead. Then he freezes, and I remember that we’ve been broken up for years, and that I fucking hate his face.

“Buck up, Havoc Boy,” I say, pulling a bloodied mask off the wall and slipping it over my head. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re too pretty to wear a mask,” he says, yanking it off my head and putting it on his own before I can think up a response. “Better?”

“You’ll make Kara and Ashley cry,” I say, turning away and moving from the masks section to the—for lack of a better word—slutty costume portion of the store. Look at that, I can be whatever I want to be—astronaut, firefighter, police officer—just so long as I’m selling sex while I’m doing it.

I notice Hael in the corner, tapping away at his phone, and I get this hot, angry flush all over my skin.

“Brittany?” I ask, and he lifts his head up, like he hadn’t realized I was standing there. He shoots for one of his signature smirks, but it just doesn’t stick.

“She wants to meet to talk,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do. I just know that’s not my fucking kid.”

“Maybe she poked a hole in a condom?” I say, feeling annoyed that I even have to discuss Hael having sex with Brittany. I mean, I’ve had sex with a few guys I didn’t really like, so it’s not like we don’t all make mistakes at some point in our lives. Still, I hate the idea of it anyway.

“Nope. I always provide my own condoms, always open them, always put them on.” He lets out a long sigh, and reaches up to rub at his face, pausing as two freshmen giggle and apologize as they squeeze past him.

“What if you got drunk, got hot and heavy one night, and forgot a condom?” I suggest, but Hael just gives me a look.

“You don’t forget unless you really like a girl,” he says, glancing down at his phone again. He doesn’t seem to notice the way my body tenses up. Like how Vic always forgets? Or just doesn’t seem to care … “There’s no way I’d ever forget with someone like Brittany. Having a kid with her would be my worst nightmare.”

“Set up a time and place to meet her,” Vic says, making me jump as he appears behind me, slipping out from the next aisle over, skeletons hanging over his head, and an animatronic Cerberus snarling behind him. “But make it after Halloween. Lie if you have to. We have enough shit to deal with this week.”

“I’ll fucking try,” Hael says with another sigh, hitting the power button on his phone and turning the screen off. He slips it in his pocket and then grabs a mummy mask off the wall, looking down at it absently.

“Do you really think they’re going to wait until Stacey’s party to do something with the information