Sempre (Forever Series #1)(8)

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Tess said. “No girl with an ounce of self-respect would want him.”

“I’m not that bad. I’m rich, popular. I have a sense of humor. I’m good looking, and not to mention I have a really big—” They all groaned loudly before he could finish. He shrugged, thinking he’d summed himself up nicely. “Besides, it’s not like I plan to date her. The only time you’ll catch me asking a girl out is after I’m done with her, and I’m asking her to get out.”

“See, that’s why you’ll always be alone,” Tess said. “You only think about yourself.”

“So says the vainest bitch alive,” he said. “You better be careful throwing stones in your glass house, Tess. You’re liable to get cut.”

“Enough, you two,” Dominic said, stepping between them. “Carmine’s free to do whatever—or whomever—he wants, so get off his back. But, bro, you better watch yourself, threatening my girl.”

“I didn’t threaten her. I warned her. She ought to thank me.”

Rolling her eyes, Tess stalked off, and Dominic followed behind, calling her name. The routine happened daily: Tess gets mad, stomps away, and Dominic chases her like a dog.

Carmine didn’t see the appeal. “He’s pathetic.”

“He’s in love.”

“If that’s what love does to you, you can definitely count me out.” He couldn’t imagine spending every waking moment of every day with the same person, doing the same shit they did the day before. “That has to be boring.”

“And what you do isn’t?”

He looked at her incredulously. “You think my life is boring? I get what I want, when I want it. I enjoy my freedom too much to give it away for some bitch.”

Dia cringed. “Do you have to use that word?”

“What word?”

She glared at him but didn’t respond. Carmine knew what word she meant, but he didn’t see the big deal, considering it was just that—a word. Whatever happened to “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me”?

The bell rang in the distance, signaling the start of school. “Here comes Moanin’ Lisa,” Dia said, hopping down from her car. “And yeah, a girl would be lucky to have you, Carmine, but not like this. You’re wasting your time, and it’s not worth it. You need to find something that is.”

She scurried away before he had a chance to reply.

“Hey, handsome,” Lisa said as she approached. She leaned against his car, beaming, but he pulled her away from it. He hated people touching his things. She didn’t notice, though, and ran her hand down his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “You look good today.”

“Thanks, but you know what would look really good today?”

“What?”

“Bocchino.” He brushed his pointer finger across her pink glossy lips. “That mouth on me.”

* * *

A sharp pain ricocheted through Carmine’s head as warmth streamed down the side of his face. Every ounce of rationality left his body in a whoosh. He was bleeding. Again.

Unacceptable.

A frantic voice rung out, adamantly apologizing, but the words seemed distant as Carmine’s temper dangerously flared. He slammed the locker door that had struck him before pouncing, hurling a boy into another row of lockers, his clenched fist landing straight into his stomach.

Someone stepped between them, and Carmine nearly swung again until their eyes connected. Coach Woods towered over him, nostrils flaring. “Principal’s office!”

“Me? This is bullshit!”

Coach Woods glared at him. “Don’t speak that way in my locker room! I’ll bench you!”

As starting quarterback for the varsity football team, Carmine was usually afforded a bit of leniency, but he could tell from his coach’s expression that today was an exception. He grabbed a towel, holding it to his forehead to soak up the trickle of blood as he stormed out.

The secretary in the front office barely glanced at Carmine when he busted in, throwing himself down in a chair to impatiently wait. She casually radioed the principal, notifying him someone was waiting. Principal Rutledge came out, merely casting Carmine a look that told him to join him. Carmine took his usual seat in the cracked brown leather chair in the small office, still clutching the towel to his head as he sprawled his legs out in front of him.

“What happened this time?” It was a question Principal Rutledge seemed to have asked Carmine every week since his freshman year.

“Someone hit me with a locker door.”

“Intentionally?”

Carmine shrugged. “Might as well have been.”

The principal picked up his office phone, dialing a number he’d long ago memorized. Carmine glanced around the small space while he waited. He noticed a new picture frame on top of a filing cabinet with a photo of the man’s daughter, a curvy sophomore with brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Your daughter’s looking good these days.”

“Leave her alone, Carmine.”

He chuckled but didn’t have time to respond before the principal focused on the call. “Dr. DeMarco, Jack Rutledge here . . . Yes . . . I’m doing well, how about you? Yes, well, there was an incident . . . He is injured . . . No, I don’t think the other boy is . . . He’s still in my office . . . No, he hasn’t been seen by the nurse.”