“You going to Christian’s tonight?” Oakley asks as we head to our cars. “Rumor has it he’s throwing a back to the hellhole, so let’s get drunk bash at his place.”
I’m not surprised. Christian will find just about any excuse to throw a party. And given his parents are gone most of the time and have a huge house, he’s got the perfect set up to do it.
“I’m not sure.” The words I’m about to spew taste like poison on my tongue as I approach my Lexus. “Depends what Britney wants to get into later.”
That earns me a strange look from my friend. “I thought you two seemed extra close today, but I figured it was because she blew you before school.” He lights a blunt and takes a quick pull before passing it to me. “But it sounds like things are getting pretty serious.”
I take a long drag as I conjure up my response. Technically, he’s not wrong. Britney and I are getting serious…but not because I’m interested in her for anything more than getting my dick wet.
I just want to hurt Dylan.
No. More than hurt.
I want to torture her until she feels even a small fraction of the pain she’s caused me and my family.
And because I know my buddy so well, I know her Achilles heel.
Every time she sees me with Britney…it will gut her.
Whenever she thinks about all the dirty things I do to her nemesis when we’re alone…it will dig the knife in that much deeper.
Until finally…she won’t be able to take it and goes back to wherever she came from.
It occurs to me I never found out where exactly that was, because my brother’s horny, one-track mind interrupted the convo.
“Why is she here?”
“Who?” Oakley looks around. “The parking lot’s empty. We dipped out early to smoke, remember?”
“Dylan,” I elaborate. “Why is Dylan here?”
He takes the blunt from me. “This shit must be better than I thought. Dylan ain’t here, bro. You’re just high as fuck.”
It’s all I can do not to knock him upside his head. “Living with you,” I stress. “Why the fuck is Dylan living with you?”
Finally, I see the wheels in his head turn. “Oh.” He exhales a puff of smoke. “Some shit happened with her pops. He’s in the slammer for the next year or so. My dad was able to get—”
“Hold up. Brian’s in jail?”
Not many things shock me, but Dylan’s law-abiding—won’t even go over the speed limit while driving—father being locked up definitely does.
“You know her dad?” Oak laughs to himself. “Or should I say, my uncle.” He starts tapping invisible dots in the air. “Or is he? If Dylan’s mom was Crystal’s sister…and my dad married Crystal…and Dylan is Crystal’s niece. What does that make Dylan’s dad to me?”
I’m starting to see why he flunked biology and has to repeat it this year. “Nothing. Just a dude in prison.”
His shoulders rise as he inhales. “Bummer. My dad’s so fucking lame and boring, the thought of being related to a bad ass in prison was kind of cool.”
“I hear you, man.” I take the blunt from him. “Why did he get put away?”
Usually I don’t mind Oakley venting about his dad, but time is of the essence.
He shrugs. “He embezzled almost ten-million from his job.”
“Christ.”
He nods. “I know. I overheard my dad and Crystal talking about it once. Apparently, he did it for his wife. Or as Crystal would say—his fake-tittied, conniving, gold-digging, whore replacement wife.”
Crystal isn’t wrong.
Last I checked, Brian was a financial officer who was well off enough to own a home on the good side of town and afford private school for Dylan. Then out of nowhere, he uprooted his daughter and his new young fiancée in the middle of the night—all because he was offered a prestigious job opportunity, and his fiancée said she’d call the engagement off if he didn’t take it.
At least that was the gist of it from the frantic voicemail Dylan left me that night.
Right before the treacherous bitch turned my life upside down.
However, given the timetable of events…I quickly realized she was full of shit.
Dylan knew she was moving weeks before she left. Maybe longer.
My former best friend just wanted to punish me for not giving her what she really wanted.
What we both wanted.
