Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(12)

Albert’s lips slightly tilt up. “He is, and my little sister’s best friend did the same thing to me last time I was home.”

I remove a small bouncy ball from my pocket and roll it in Albert’s direction. He picks it up with his right hand then rolls it back. I bounce it a few times on the table, pocket it, then, I’m ready to interview.

“She did?” I ask.

“She did.” His eyes go to the right and up, indicating he’s recalling a memory.

“I know them.” I wave at the other guys and I scan “Albert” like I’m interested in his body, but really, I’m checking out his clothes. Baggy jeans, T-shirt that costs too much to be a T-shirt, a baseball cap on backwards. “I don’t know you.”

“Albert,” he says. “And you are?”

“Curious.”

His eyebrows shoot up and I select a nacho chip from the basket and nibble on it. My mouth squishes to the side. Too salty for my taste, but it’s food and it’s free and I should make Houston buy me dinner for this.

“Tacos or spaghetti?” I ask.

“What?”

“Tacos or spaghetti.”

He glances over at Houston and his buddies. Houston shrugs. “She won’t let it go until you answer. She’s weird like that.”

Yes, I am.

“Tacos,” he answers.

“Disney World or Disneyland?”

“Land.” Which means he’s been on the West Coast and we’re East Coast.

“Ice cream or brownies?”

Eyes to the right again—fourth time in a row. “Brownies.”

“Rolling Stones or the Beatles?”

This one trips people up. They either don’t have an answer, have an immediate answer, or are split. “Stones.”

A boy after my own heart and once again to the right. “Cool.”

I eat another taco chip and let the boys share conversation for a few minutes. They discuss an upcoming dance the frat is holding and I mentally mark the date. I’ll need more supply than normal that weekend.

Right as their conversation is about to switch, Albert says to me, “If you’re in high school, then why are you here?”

I raise my wrist and dangle the annoying orange band. “Teen night. I should ask why college boys would want to hang here tonight.”

Houston jerks his hand to the right. “Jerry’s still a minor.”

Jerry has a fake ID and Jerry must also not trust Albert if he’s keeping that a secret.

“Did you come alone?” Albert asks.

“No, but my friend is doing a guy in the bathroom and watching doesn’t turn me on.”

Houston chokes on a chip. Serves him right.

“Seriously, why here?” I push. “No alcohol is being served here tonight and I would have left Jerry’s sorry, minor ass at home. Would have thought college boys would be searching for trouble.”

Albert looks left and my Spidey-senses prickle along my skin. “We’re meeting up with somebody.”

“Anyone I know?” I cast a sideways gaze at Houston. “Mallory will be pissed if you’re trying to set up her friends with your friends. Remember how well that worked last time?”

I have no clue if that’s true or not, but I like watching people scramble to think fast.

“We’re here to meet my dealer,” says Houston. Well played. Albert straightens and Houston gestures to me. “She’s cool so don’t freak.”

I prop my elbows on the table and tilt my head, purposefully letting him think I’m attracted...to him. “Interested in buying?”

Albert scratches his nose. Not a good sign at all. “Yeah.”

He could be nervous. Maybe it’s his first time buying. First timers have a guilty look about them, but he’s too put together for the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-jail fear.

“Ever bought before?”

“Yes.” The boy doesn’t blink and I believe him.

Have you ever put anyone in handcuffs and then escorted them to the back of a police car after you bought the drugs? “I haven’t bought before.” Truth.

Albert smirks. “Are you the type that mooches off of everyone else’s supplies?”

I smile and it’s the type that causes Houston and his friend to back up. It’s the one that belongs to the streets and it’s the type that makes the invisible devil beside me cackle. Albert’s eyes narrow in on it and then he retreats a centimeter.

“Yes,” I answer. “I’m a parasite. There’s a reason creatures like us have survived as long as we have.”

I wink at him, and Albert’s trying to figure out if I’m flirting or if I’m threatening his life. Sometimes, at least with me, it’s a fine line between the two.

My cell buzzes, and it’s Rachel. Logan stayed behind for you. Just text or find him for me. He looked pale before we left. Like he was sick.

My stomach drops and I scan the club. Just damn. The boy was supposed to go home.

“Problem?” Houston asks.

“My friend’s done screwing around.” Now he’s just screwing with me.

“You.” I point at Albert. “My grandmother always said, ‘You are all sons of the light and sons of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.’ I’ll be honest, I’m a darkness girl. Which way do you swing on that?”