serious about that handy.
I look down at my knuckles, picking at a nasty scab—a result from last night’s fight. With my goddamn car. Jesus. “I’ll steal it.”
Reyn looks at me and snorts. “No way.”
I flip him off. “I can steal.”
“Beg and borrow, sure,” Reyn says, “But steal? You’re too flashy, Wilcox. Stealing requires subtlety and patience. You’re not the guy who steals. You’re the guy who causes a huge distraction so that someone else can steal.”
Emory nods. “Yeah, you’re good at being a distraction.”
“Excuse the fuck out of you.” I point to my own face. “I’m a sweet-talker. People like me.”
Tyson laughs. “Your own girlfriend doesn’t even like you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Since when do I have a girlfriend?”
“Since you keep chasing that Sugar chick around like she’s got you by the balls.”
Before I can wholeheartedly debate this, Georgia pipes in, “Or since the other night when she snuck out of the room to meet you? Because I woke up and she was gone, and when I tracked her on my phone, there she was. Smack dab in Cresswell.”
Everyone lets out a slow, unnecessarily dramatic ‘ooooo’.
“Seriously?” I give them each an unimpressed look. “What is this, middle school?”
Elana twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “Now that you mention it, she hasn’t been quite as scary lately. I haven’t even seen her threaten you all week. Must be love.”
I flip her off, too.
Ben laughs. “Better lock that shit down, Bass. Have you taken her to the tower yet? Put your mark on her?”
“Fuck no,” I scoff. “Sugar’s not that kind of girl.” I immediately regret my choice of emphasis as I watch every girl’s eyebrows climb their foreheads.
“Oh, and just what kind of girl gets taken to the tower?” Vandy bites out, pointing to the other girls. “Because all of us have been in there, after all.”
I make a time-out signal with my hands. “Come on, you all know I’m like the most sex-positive motherfucker on the planet. I just meant that she’s not the kind of girl I can afford to rush shit with.”
Aubrey takes a break from staring at her phone to look me in the eye. “I like her for you. She won’t take your shit.”
Afton adds, “And if she did, she’d probably take it at knife point.” She doesn’t know just how true that is.
“Thank you for your completely unsolicited approval. If we could get back to the topic at hand? I know how to sweet-talk.”
Carlton looks at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, I bet Bass could swindle.”
I hold up a hand. “Sweet-talk.”
We’d all arrived at school an hour early to hold the meeting, so most of us are still rubbing sleep from our eyes. We’ve been down here in the Devil dungeon working out how this prank’s going to go down. It’s a fine line to walk, doing something big enough to capture everyone’s awe, but not so big that it gets us busted. Hijacking halftime during one of the biggest basketball games of the season seems like the best option.
And hey, speaking of flashy…
“Well, I can’t be the shirtless Devil because I have tattoos, so this is my best offer for contribution.”
“Fine,” Emory agrees, shutting his notebook. “At least you can afford to get in trouble if you get busted. If nothing else, it’ll be amusing.”
I mutter, “Ye of little faith,” and with that, we all begin filtering out of the tower, careful to stagger our exits.
“Stop picking at that thing,” Elana chides, batting at my hand. Without realizing it, I’ve picked the scab clean off my knuckle, reopening the wound. “Ew! Gross, you’re bleeding.” I tease her with it, shoving my hand close to her face, making her squeal and bolt to the side.
Georgia sighs. “Boys are so disgusting.”
Disgusting or not, we walk together toward the school. We’re early enough that there’s plenty of time to do something productive before the warning bell, like organizing a locker, or finishing my Lit essay, or grabbing a bite to eat.
Like hunting down Sugar and pulling her into an empty classroom.
Unfortunately, when I find her, that’s not in the cards at all.
Georgia, Elana, and I cut through the crowd. Sugar’s standing in the middle of the hallway with a rapidly growing audience as some jerkoff junior towers over her, face set into a scowl.
“What’s going on?” Elana asks before I can.
Sugar’s eyes flick over in a rapid glance. I don’t imagine the way her aggressive, tight stance loosens upon seeing me. She still looks like she’s about