“He’s not lying. I was a bit nervous,” Jacob confesses.
Charlie smiles. “That’s sweet. Well, we should head out then.”
“Hold on.” Andreas walks around the kitchen counter. “Introductions are in order.”
I suppress a groan, pressing a fist against my forehead. He already knew Charlie was good-looking, but she’s fucking gorgeous tonight. He’ll be all over her, date or no date. I bet he already forgot we’re supposed to dislike her.
“Let me guess. You’re on the team,” Charlie deadpans.
“Running back, babe. The name is Andreas, but you can call me Andy.”
She narrows her eyes. “Right. Well, nice to meet you, Andreas.” She glances at Danny, who hasn’t moved from his spot. “And you too, Pringles Boy.”
Danny arches his eyebrows, but since he’s chewing, he doesn’t reply.
As soon as Charlie and Jacob leave, Andreas whirls on me. “Dude, Charlie is way hotter than I thought.”
“Don’t let all that makeup fool you.” I let the venom drip from my tongue.
Damn it. I am jealous.
“I know a beautiful woman when I see one. Since she’s your roommate, I’m going to ask, are you planning to tap that? Because if you aren’t, then I’m game.”
I glower at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
His eyes become rounder. He lifts his hands, palms facing me, and steps back. “Okay, okay. Just checking. I won’t get in your way.”
“That’s not why—you know what? Forget it.”
“Is it wise to hook up with your roommate though?” Danny asks.
“I’m not going to hook up with her,” I grit out.
“Then why were you acting like that Jacob guy stole your candy from under your nose?” Andreas quirks an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t.” I return to the couch to grab my phone.
“Sorry, bro. Your head might know Charlie is the enemy, but your dick sure doesn’t.”
“Fuck off, Andy.” I keep my attention on the phone.
“Are you finally ordering food?” Danny asks.
“No. Change of plans. We’re having a party.”
* * *
CHARLIE
This has been the worst date of my life. Jacob spent the entire dinner yapping about football and how Troy is a god among us. How could Vivian set me up with a football fanatic? And if he’s such a fan, doesn’t he know I was the one who wrote the nasty article about Troy?
Jacob seems oblivious that I want to gag him with a chain saw as he drives me back home. I’m ready to bail as soon as he parks the car in front of my house, but it isn’t to be. The house is packed with random people. Some are outside, chatting animatedly, and loud music can be heard, even from inside the car.
I can’t believe this. Troy decided to throw a party without telling me? That’s fucking wrong.
“Whoa. I didn’t know you were having a party tonight.” Jacob drives past our house instead of stopping, so I can get out.
“Where are you going?”
“Uh, I’m going to look for a place to park.”
Shit. Of course he wants to come in.
Angry doesn’t begin to cover my feelings right now. I’m going to throttle Troy when I get the chance.
Jacob manages to park his car two blocks away, which means the asshole is forcing me to walk all the way back to the house in high heels. If the date hadn’t already been a bust, the lack of gentlemanly conduct would seal his fate.
I stride ahead in silence, not hiding the fact that I’m pissed. On the front porch, a stupid drunk girl almost spills beer all over me as she misses a step. Patience is not a virtue I possess. Troy had better stay the fuck out of my way tonight.
I have every intention to disappear into my room, but the sight I encounter as I walk through the front door raises my blood to the boiling point. Strangers are wearing the cosplay outfits I had separated to donate to my brother’s high school. Some of those costumes cost hundreds of dollars and are now being ruined by monster football players who are too big for them. I’m going to lose my shit in front of all these people.
Fuming, I search for Troy in the crowd, finding him in the kitchen, surrounded by his adoring fans. Curling my hands into fists, I march in his direction. He doesn’t notice my presence until I push one of the girls to the side.
“Hey!” she complains. “What the hell!”
I ignore her, keeping my murderous stare on Troy.
His lips curl into a lazy, drunken smile. “Hey, roomie. You’re home. How was your date?”
“Why are your friends wearing my costumes?”
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d mind. They were marked as donation.”
“You ass! You had no right to go through my stuff!”
His bloodshot eyes narrow. “If you don’t want me to mess with your personal belongings, don’t leave them lying everywhere.”
“So, the gloves have finally come off.”
“Who is this bitch?” a random redhead asks.
I turn my ire on her. “What did you call me?”
Troy suddenly jumps in between his guest and me. “Whoa. Everyone, calm down. Charlie, why don’t you grab a beer and chill? This is a party, for fuck’s sake. Relax.” He reaches for my arm, but I quickly pull away.
“Don’t touch me.”
I whirl around and make a dramatic exit, stomping with the fury of a stampede. I could call the cops and end the party, but everyone already hates me, and I don’t need to give them more reason. Besides, my beef isn’t with them; it’s with Troy.
But if he thinks I’m going to simply forget his assholery, he’s sorely mistaken.
He wants war? I’ll give him war.
9
CHARLIE
Trying to sleep while the party was raging downstairs was pointless. Eventually, the guests left at around four in the morning, but I was too angry to fall asleep. Now it’s six o’clock, and I’m out of bed, showered, and ready to go.
The living room and kitchen are completely trashed. There are empty beer bottles, discarded cups, and leftover food everywhere. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. If Ophelia could see the condition of her house, she’d flip out. Troy had better clean this mess by the time I get back.
I search for the costumes I was going to bring to Littleton today. I find none scattered with the trash, and my heart sinks. It’s possible Troy’s teammates simply went home with them. I open the closet below the stairs, hoping they might have left something untouched. To my surprise, most of the stuff is back in boxes. Unfortunately, they stink of beer and other unsavory smells. And I’m pretty sure most are damaged.
With a sigh, I pull the boxes out of the closet and carry them to my car. I’ll sort them out when I get to my parents’. Ben will be so disappointed when he sees what happened to the costumes.
A new surge of anger erupts from the pit of my stomach. I can’t let Troy get away with this without retaliation. I’m a fair person, but I won’t sit back and let people do bad things without retribution.
The hour drive serves to calm me down, and when I park in my parents’ driveway, my anger is almost gone. The garage door is open, but only Mom’s car is inside. It’s still fairly early. I wonder where Dad is.
I bring all the boxes to the garage, and then I follow the smell of Sunday breakfast—pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Mom is behind the stove, cooking more food, while Ben is sitting at the table in the kitchen nook. Bailey, our golden retriever, is the first to come greet me.
I lean forward to rub behind her ear. “Hey, girl. How are you?”
She wags her tail and then licks my hand, making me laugh. Like a miracle, the dark cloud above my head dissipates. That’s the power of Bailey. She’s been part of our family for fourteen years. Her muzzle fur has already turned gray. There’s no denying her age, and the certainty that she’ll be leaving us soon brings a pang to my chest. I hate aging. I wish we were all immortal.
“Hi, Charlie. How was your drive?” Be
n asks me.
“Not too bad. It’s early.”
I step close to Mom to give her a kiss. “Where’s Dad?”
Her eyebrows furrow, and her lips become nothing but a thin flat line. “He went to the warehouse before we even woke up.”
“On a Sunday?” I wash my hands at the sink, eyeing the rows of bacon. My stomach grumbles.
“Dad has been really busy lately,” Ben pipes up. “We barely see him.”
I frown. “Really? I thought he was going to slow down.”
“Well, that’s what we all thought. He put Roger in charge of daily operations, so I really don’t know why he spends most of the time in the warehouse now.”
Mom’s bitterness is clear. I’ve been so busy lately that our phone conversations have been superficial. I didn’t realize this was going on.
Dad has a successful carpentry business. He designs luxurious furniture for the rich and famous in LA and other parts of the country. His beginnings were humble though, working out of the garage at our old house. It wasn’t until ten years ago that he sold a piece to a celebrity and his business boomed.
“Oh, before I forget, my boss is throwing a barbeque for his employees and family,” my mom says. “It’s two weeks from now. I hope you can make it.”
“Is it on Saturday or Sunday?” I grab a plate and begin to fill it with delicious food. I didn’t realize I was this hungry until I got here.
“It’s Saturday, and don’t worry, Charlie. We don’t have LARP that weekend,” Ben chimes in.
I sit across from him at the table, noticing his new hairdo. His blond hair is sticking out at odd angles, but it was done by design.
Pointing with my fork, I ask, “What’s up with the porcupine look?”
“Oh, do you like it? This is for when Sir Lorenzo gets hit by lightning and gains new powers.”
That’s his LARP character, and we usually drop them in conversation as if they were real people.
I furrow my eyebrows. “When does that happen? I didn’t write it.”
“Oh, Tammara did. I have to show it to you.” Ben gets a goofy grin on his face.
“Who is Tammara?”
Redness sneaks up Ben’s cheeks, and he lowers his gaze to the plate before answering, “My girlfriend.”
I hit the table with an open palm. “Shut up! You have a girlfriend? When did this happen?”
Ben just turned sixteen, so I shouldn’t be too surprised by the development. But he’s my baby brother, and I’m very protective of him. He was bullied when he was younger on account of his Down syndrome. I got into many fistfights to defend him. It wasn’t until we moved and he enrolled in a private school that things improved. Understandably, I really want to know who this Tammara person is.
“Relax, Charlie. Tammara is nice. I’ve met her,” Mom butts in.
“She’s like me.” Ben smiles from ear to ear.
I glance at Mom, and she confirms with a nod. When Ben says she’s like him, he means, she has Down syndrome too.
“All right. Does she want to be a writer then?”
“Well, she likes writing stories for LARP. She’s coming to the next event too. Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah, that’s awesome. Where did you meet?”
“Online.”
My jaw drops.
I glance at Mom, and she simply shrugs. “It’s how it is these days.”
I shake my head and smile. “Man, look at you. All grown up. I can’t believe my baby brother has a girlfriend, and I’m still single.”
“You’re only single by choice, sis.”
“You got that right,” I reply.
I tell Ben and Mom about my fiasco date, which leads to me also talking about my roommate from hell. Mom pulls up a chair and takes a seat with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“To sum up, most of the costumes are dirty or completely ruined, all thanks to Troy.”
“I think you should look for a new place to stay, Charlie. That roommate of yours sounds like an ass.”
“Mom! Language.” Ben laughs.
She rolls her eyes.
“The house is pretty nice though, and the rent is cheap.” I sigh. “I don’t know. The problems only arise when we bump into each other, which doesn’t happen often.”
“I think Charlie should stay, but she can’t let him get away with that. Raven the Sorceress would never let that slide.”
Ben loves to bring up my LARP character into conversation. To be fair, I do the same to him.
Mom frowns. “Revenge should never be the answer, Ben.”
“Okay, maybe not revenge, but a little prank never hurt anyone,” he replies.
I sit straighter, resting my forearms on the table. “Oh, I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?”
Mom stands. “Okay, if you’re not going to listen to me, I’m out of here.”
We ignore her remark. Mom has her convictions, but she never tries to impose them on us. She believes we’re old enough to make our own decisions. But she will tell us I told you so when we—I—fuck up. Ben never does, so I’m intrigued by his remark.
“I saw on YouTube the other day that some guy pranked his roommate by filling his room with chickens. They shat everywhere. It was hilarious.”
“That sounds like a fit punishment, but where am I going to find dozens of chickens?”
Ben’s blue eyes light up. “Tammara’s parents own a farm. They have a chicken coop. I’m sure we can borrow them.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. It’s one thing for me to do something outrageous on my own. I can take the repercussions of my actions. I’m not sure if I want to involve Ben in my shenanigans.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should come up with something easier.”
His shoulders sag in disappointment. “Oh, okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”
10
TROY
My head is pounding when I get up. And don’t get me started with my mouth. It tastes like something died in it. I need a shower and a shave, but I only use the bathroom to relieve myself before I drag my feet downstairs for a damage report. I don’t know what time everyone finally left, but I’m glad I made it to my room alone. Waking up next to a random girl would have made this hellish morning even worse.
I stop halfway down the stairs and stare at the mess. It looks like a hurricane passed through. This will take hours to clean.
Fuck.
I sit on a step and text Andreas, cursing him for putting the idea of a party in my head. Technically, this isn’t his fault—I was the one who changed my mind—but I need a scapegoat, and I’m choosing him.
He asks for a picture of the chaos. Apparently, he left with two girls way before the party was over. Typical. I do as he said, and a minute later, he texts that he’ll come over to help. My bullshit alarm immediately rings. Andreas is not one to volunteer to do anything, especially a cleanup, but I’m too tired and hungover to question him.
I get my ass off the stairs and head to the kitchen. Coffee is in order and probably several painkillers. While I wait for it to brew, I investigate my fridge. As suspected, there’s nothing appealing inside. Not even Charlie’s food. Damn it. I text Andreas again, asking him to bring me something greasy.
He takes his sweet time, finally showing up forty minutes later. I’ve showered and changed already and just finished cleaning the kitchen when he opens the front door, wearing his leather jacket and sunglasses like he’s Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
“Help has arrived,” he announces, removing his glasses in a dramatic fashion.
“I didn’t think you’d show up,” I grumble.
“I said I’d come.” He looks over his shoulder. “Come on, guys. This place won’t clean itself.”
Five freshmen come through and immediately get to work. They don’t even ask where the cleaning supplies are, guessing their location.
“Who the hell are they?”
“New Pike pledges.” Andreas grins, taking a seat on a high stool by th
e kitchen counter. “Am I good or what?”
“How did you get these guys?”
He shrugs. “Unlike you, I cultivate relationships off the football field. I promised Leo tickets to the next game and a date with the head cheerleader.”
“You got Heather Castro to go out with him?” I quirk an eyebrow. “The Ice Queen of Rushmore?”
“Let’s say, I can be very persuasive.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down.
I narrow my eyes. “You didn’t fuck her, did you?”
Andreas looks surprised. “Are you crazy? She’s not my type.”
“She has a vagina. She is your type.”
He shakes his head. “No, I draw the line at colder-than-Siberia chicks.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This conversation is making my headache worse. I need to load up on carbs to soak up all the alcohol that’s still in my system.
“Fine. You can tell me the details of your deal later. Where’s my food?”
Andreas widens his eyes. “Oops. I forgot.”
“Dude! Come on.”
He jumps off the chair. “No worries. Let’s get some grub while the guys clean.”
“I’m not leaving them here alone.”
The dude closest to me pipes up, “It’s okay, Troy. We won’t break anything. Promise.”
Clenching my jaw, I debate between taking Andreas up on his offer and staying to supervise these guys. But in the end, the hole in my stomach wins. I need food, pronto.
“Fine. We’ll be back soon. Stay off the second floor,” I warn them.
* * *
CHARLIE
On the way back home, I think about Ben’s chicken idea. As complicated as it would be to pull off, that would be an awesome prank. But no, I really need to learn to let go even though, last night, I promised war. Ben and I went through the boxes, and besides the beer stains, the costumes aren’t completely ruined. After a wash, they’ll be wearable again.
I make a pit stop at the grocery store first because, most likely, the little bit of food I had left in the fridge and pantry are long gone. I know how ravenous drunk people get.
Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One Page 5
