Page 122 of Shade
His brow furrows. “Why would she suck on a chicken?”
I know what you’re thinking, you guys are awful, and this is not something a ten-year-old should be hearing. You’re right, but in my defense, we didn’t invite him over here. He follows the cool people. I can’t blame the kid, and I heard way worse at ten.
“It’s hot. I can’t take this.” Scarlet says, yanking at her shirt and attempting to fan herself when she’s finished with the hot dog. “I’m a northwest girl!”
She’s sweating? How does she think I feel after watching her eat a hot dog?
“You can take your clothes off,” I suggest, earning me a laugh from Tiller but a glare from the ho on his lap who’s twirling her black hair around her finger and popping her gum.
What’s her deal?I also can’t stand it when chicks pop their gum. Absolutely hate it.
“They won’t come off.” Scarlet reaches for her plate, then her water bottle next to her. “They’re stuck to me.”
I lean over to her, whispering, “Oh, I can manage. I’m determined.”
She flips my sunglasses up to see my eyes, smiling. “Nah, I’m going to bed.”
What the fuck? “Can I come too?”
“Nope.”
“C’mon. Don’t be a pussy.”
Scarlet doesn’t like being called a pussy. From what I can gather, it pisses her off more than anything. This is why she slaps me in the face with a hot dog on the table.
There’s only one way I’m going to get Scarlet to relax enough to at least give me a chance. I mean fuck, I’d settle for a fucking hand job from her at this point as long as she lets me suck on those nipple rings of hers.
We stare at each other. My eyes drop to the metal loops poking through her white shirt. “We’re having a party,” I announce, throwing the hot dog at her face.
It smacks her cheek and falls into her lap. I’m assuming she doesn’t want to waste it, or she wants to turn me on or scare the shit out of me, but she takes a rather large bite of the hot dog. “No.” She covers her mouth, chewing slowly. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
Tiller throws his arm around her and shows her his cast on his left arm. He broke it yesterday jumping off the roof of the house on a skateboard. He was attempting to land on the roof of the guest house some thirty feet away and missed. “We have to celebrate me not dying. Again.”
She pushes his arm off. “That seems to be a daily occurrence with you.” Scarlet looks to Roan who’s seated next to me at the table. The one sheassumesis moral. It’s funny she thinks this because she doesn’t know him. And she doesn’t know about the time we were in Peru and found him a week later in Machu Picchu. I’m not going to go in to detail, but that’s where his aversion to clothes came from. I’m pretty sure he was high on something, but he said the “gods” told him clothing was a necessity we didn’t need in life and we should all be free.
This coming from a guy who started a clothing line a year ago. We just can’t get him to wear the clothes we design.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell Scarlet, winking at her. I’m completely full of shit, but she doesn’t need to know this. I point to Camden. “You gotta go, dude.”
He sighs, dejected, but stands and takes his hamburger with him. “Man, this sucks.”
