Jaded (Jaded #1)(14)

I frowned and pointed out, “He’s one of my best friends.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I just—”

I waved her off. “Don’t worry.” I laughed and drank some of my own Diet Coke.

“Corrigan’s an ass. I told him myself this morning.”

“I’m sorry. I knew he was one of your best friends. I just…when I met Corrigan, he slept with my best friend and never called her. She cried for an entire week.”

That sounded exactly like Corrigan. I smirked.

Mena grimaced again. And then she cringed when her phone rang.

“It’s my brother,” she mumbled just before she answered it and moved into the living room.

When the front door slammed again, I heard Corrigan call out my name, “Sheldon! Where are you, you freak?!”

I waited as I heard his voice grow louder. Just as he turned the corner, a sly grin spread across his face and he shook his head.

I laughed.

“I cannot believe you,” he stated as he patted his chest. “You are my idol. I love you. I will always take your side whenever you fight with Bryce.”

“Shut up,” I chuckled and glanced down.

“Seriously, though,” he sobered. “You’re a living legend at school. Again. You told the counselor to go to hell.”

“No, I didn’t,” I corrected.

“You told her to expel you. That’s the same thing. You said ‘screw you.’ I’ve never heard of any student who had the balls to say that.”

“Yeah, well…I was pissed.”

“And frantic,” he added as he hopped up next to me. He patted my knee. “Bryce told me what happened. And thanks, by the way, for covering for me.”

That’s right. I’d forgotten.

“Corrigan, if that kid talks…” I started, concerned.

Corrigan stopped me, “Don’t. It’s covered.”

“I know, but…Bryce is right. If the cops find out, you know they’re not going to be nice. They’re after Hoodum.”

“I know and seriously—shut up about it,” he said firmly.

I snapped my mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered in the next second. “I’m just worried about you, okay?

Bryce said you freaked about the counselor.”

“I know and seriously—shut up about it.”

Corrigan flushed, hearing his own words, but he shut up. He jumped off the counter and raked a hand through his hair.

And then we watched each other, at an impasse.

Corrigan didn’t want to be reminded how stupid his actions had been—not for the action, but because someone had seen him. And I didn’t want to talk about my counselor freak-out.

“Look,” he began. “Want to go grab something to eat? Let’s go do something.”

Just then Mena came back into the room and stopped short at the sight of Corrigan, with his back to her.

She stood silent and shook her head to me.

I asked, “Like what?”

Mena mouthed ‘thank you’ and moved to walk down the front hallway. A second later, just because I was listening for it, I heard a soft click.

“What was that?” Corrigan stopped in his list of possibilities.

I shrugged, but remarked, “Did you know that Mena already goes to our school?”

“Oh yeah. I meant to talk to you about that. You know her. I saw her talking to you when you took off,” Corrigan accused me as he grabbed my hand and pulled me off the counter. He dragged me up the stairs and into my bedroom.

“What are we doing?”

“You’re changing and we’re going to go out,” Corrigan replied, his voice muffled as he pressed his nose in my closet. A moment later, he produced some leather pants and a barely-there halter top.

“Nice try, but no.” I shook my head and fell on my bed.

Corrigan nearly giggled as he dove back into the closet and pulled out a barely-there skirt with the same halter-top.

Laughing, I pushed him, “Get out. I’ll find my own clothes. And where are we going?”

Through the closed door, Corrigan called out, “Let’s go play some pool or we can go swimming at Chad Yerling’s house.”

I finished dressing and yanked opened the door.

I wore the barely-there skirt, but my sweater nicely covered the top. It hugged in all the right curves.

“Bryce is a very lucky man,” Corrigan mused as his eyes lit up. He suggested, “You have those black boots that come to your hips. You can wear those…”

I slipped on my flip-flops and walked past him. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”

“Then I’m driving your car.” He jangled my keys in the air.

I whisked the keys from his hand and quickly locked the front door behind us.

Inside the car, I suggested, “How about we go and hustle us some money?”

Corrigan cringed.

“What?”

“Let’s just play. Why do we need to hustle?” He glanced at his knuckles.

“Because just playing isn’t fun. Hustling is so much more fun and you won’t get into a fight. Promise.”

He sighed, “I don’t like that look.” He waved a finger in my face. “That look has gotten me in jail before. I don’t like that look.”