Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(35)

“Maybe he's actually a virgin but nobody knows the truth?” Hael queries, but I ignore him, focusing instead on Oscar's gray eyes. They narrow even further on me as my grin gets a little wider.

“Well, he's the head of the Oak Valley Prep LGBT club.” I tick off the note on my left pointer finger, the A of my HAVOC tattoo nice and visible. “He's described himself to me in a drunken stupor more than once as that little gay twink who's afraid to talk to other boys.” Second finger ticked off. Oscar is clearly growing more annoyed with me by the second. “He wore a tank top once to a Prescott Party that said Local Gay Magical Girl on it. Do you want me to keep going or …?” I trail off with three fingers raised, and then drop the two on either side, flipping Oscar off as I pretend I just have a little itch on the bridge of my nose.

I mean, he does that shit all the time to me, doesn't he? When he's 'fixing his glasses'? Load of horseshit.

“So Mack is gay and occasionally fucks David. So what? Try harder, Bernadette.” Oscar takes another step toward me, and my heart begins to pound. All I can smell right now is cinnamon, sweet and spicy and so very Oscar. My body remembers his, and having him this close, I simply ache. Like the sea misses the shore.

I almost touch him, but I'm not keen on having my hand slapped away just now. I'm enjoying intellectually crushing him with ratchet gossip instead.

“So, why would Mack be picking Kali up from the school?” I repeat. “He's picking her up to be with David. I don't know what they're doing together—I can't imagine Mack would help his on-again, off-again lover pick up a Prescott girl for sex—but that could explain how the Charter Crew came to Ophelia's attention.”

I cross my arms under my breasts, noticing that Oscar's gaze strays for just a brief moment. I'm wearing a tank that says Not Keen on Men which is ironic and hilarious because, obviously, I very much am. It used to be Penelope's shirt, which makes me really sad because I wonder if she wasn't struggling with her sexuality. She never wrote about it in the journal, but then, it's mostly just a running list of the Thing's transgressions.

“That's a sound theory,” Vic muses, rubbing his chin yet again. I must've really got him thinking. He doesn't sound patronizing either, or like he's trying to make me happy because he wants me purring underneath him. “It'd make a lot of sense, you have to admit.”

Oscar turns away from me all of a sudden, like he can't bear to be within arm's reach of me for a second longer.

“What is Kali doing with David and Mack then, when they pick her up? We've trailed the LX on numerous occasions, but they've never once gone to Tom's place. Why?” Oscar's voice is now a Lucullan hiss, nice and smooth but very clearly displeased.

“Tacos are ready …” Hael suggests, trailing off as he sets the spatula aside. Callum moves forward and plops down at the edge of the counter, letting his scarred legs dangle over the edge.

“Because Ophelia and Tom are stuck-up, licentious filth?” Vic suggests with a loose shrug of one shoulder. He rubs his left hand up and down the bulging biceps of his right arm, drawing my attention to his tattoos. He has so many, and they're all so intertwined, that they look like a mosaic from afar. Up close, there's a wolf's yellow eyes hidden in the darkness of a whimsical-looking wood, an African painted dog stalking prey, and a hyena with its teeth bared.

Lots of wild beasts, all inked onto someone who I'd classify as a wild beast in his own right.

“Where is it that they do go?” I ask, and Oscar sneers at me, flipping open his iPad case again to access the information.

“The Oak Park Shopping Village. The mall near Fuller High. A Mexican restaurant.” Oscar pauses and looks up at me, cocking a perfect black brow. I wonder if he dyes his eyebrows, too? I mean, if his roots are blond … “Shall I continue? There's nothing on here that isn't inane. None of it is significant.”

“Did our guys stay long enough to see if David was with Kali and Mack when they got out of the car? Where did Mack drop Kali off afterward?” I ask, but then Heather and Kara come racing down the stairs with Ashley behind them. Alyssa comes last, looking reserved—understandably so.

I hope that the Peters—whoever they are—take good care of her. I hope beyond all reason that her mother doesn't know where she is, that she's looking frantically for her daughter. I hope that because I know that my mother wouldn't care. I know that Pamela, if put into a properly dire financial situation, would've sold me and Pen and Heather off like it was nothing.

“Is it time to eat now?” Heather asks, still wearing her black shorts, blue tankini top, and flipflops. It's far too stormy to hit the beach today, but the kids seem even happier with the heated indoor pool. Before we leave on Sunday, I'm going to push all of Marcus' exotic plants into the water and watch them sink.

“It's time,” Hael confirms as Oscar snaps his iPad lid closed. The way he looks at me, though, he knows we're onto something here. “Shall we eat in the formal dining room?” Hael oozes with a roll of his eyes.

“Turkey tacos for Thanksgiving is so weird,” Kara giggles, clamping her hands over her mouth. Aaron smiles softly down at her, putting his hand on the top of her chestnut hair for a moment. It's curly, like his, and she even has the same color eyes. He'd be a good dad. Eventually. Like, far off in some distant future that I may or may not make it to see.