Jaded (Jaded #1)

Mena paled.

“Do you wish it had been you instead of your brother? Or do you wish it had been you that he touched?”

Mena couldn’t speak. We all saw her fight for words around the choking ball of fury in her throat.

I finished, “Watch what you say, Mena. Jealousy can be a bitch and make you do things you’d rather forget.”

Mr. Hankins spoke up then, calmly, “I think, Miss Cruiw, that you’re wanted in the principal’s office now.”

“But—”

“Just go,” Bryce bit out.

She stormed out, but she threw a last seething glare to our table before the door shut behind her.

I watched Bryce.

Bryce resumed his sleeping stance.

And Corrigan laughed, “Talk about making an entrance and exit.”

Mr. Hankins just shook his head as he turned back again to the chalkboard. I watched Bryce, uneasily, through the entire class period until he finally sighed and murmured, out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m fine. I’m not going to go off and do something, okay?”

I stopped watching him and noticed the doodles that adorned Corrigan’s notebook. I nudged him with my shoulder and asked, “What’s that about?”

“Bored.”

“Oh.”

And I was reminded why I usually skipped any and all classes. They’re just…boring.

When class was done, Chantal brushed up against Bryce as she walked along his empty side. I trailed behind, which caused Bryce’s arm to fall behind with Corrigan on my other side. I caught him glancing up and down the hallway and asked, “Looking for Logan?”

Corrigan cast a sharp, cautious, glance my way, but sighed as he saw genuine curiosity in my own eyes, “Yeah.”

We had stopped at Bryce’s locker and I leaned against his neighbor’s locker when I remarked to Corrigan, “You should have her come over today. I’m sure my mother will be gone house hunting with her boy.”

Bryce looked up at that and commented, “I’d rather hangout at Corrigan’s.”

I looked sharply at him and breathed in relief. I was still in his plans after school.

“Sweet. I’ll tell Logan,” Corrigan said quickly before anyone could change their mind.

I said flatly, “No Chantal.”

Bryce shrugged and remarked, “No movie star.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Corrigan piped in and wrenched me aside as Logan approached the group.

With the handcuffs, I got a good grope under her shirt as Corrigan greeted her like a long-lost lover that had been separated and held hostage by warring neighbors.

“Okay.” I tugged my hand back and commented, “No more of that until we’re not actually handcuffed together.”

Corrigan and Logan parted at my words.

Logan was flushed, speechless.

Corrigan just grinned and replied, “Deal.” He let go of Logan.

Bryce raised our hands as Miss Connors walked through the hallway. He remarked, “See, Miss Connors. Handcuffs.”

“That’s very nice, Bryce Scout,” Miss Connors commented, politely, as she continued down the hallway.

Corrigan punched Bryce in the shoulder when she disappeared, “What was that, idiot?”

“What?”

“Nothing like telling her that we figured out how to get out of the handcuffs,” I remarked.

Bryce cast a shrewd eye over me and shrugged, “Whatever.”

Logan surprised everyone and asked me, “How are things with your mom?”

Bryce and Corrigan didn’t say a word.

Neither did I.

No one asked about The Mother.

“That’s a loaded question,” Corrigan commented and eyed his girlfriend in pity.

But—new leaf and all—I said, calmly and even a little bit nicely, “She’s…hopefully gone pretty soon.”

Corrigan suddenly laughed and suggested, “We should have a sleepover at your place tonight, Bryce.”

I grinned and commented, “AnnaBelle Scout would pray the whole night with a Bible on her lap.”

Bryce rolled his eyes, but I caught the slight quirk at his lips.

“Why?” Logan treaded onto uncharted waters once again. She asked, “What’s your mom like?”

The pause wasn’t so obvious this time and Corrigan answered easily, “AnnaBelle hates Sheldon.”

“And she loves Corrigan. Corrigan’s a saint in AnnaBelle’s world,” I added.

Logan kept quiet, which was wise.

Bryce muttered as the four of us moved towards my locker, “She’d go after Miss Connors and the school would lose a good counselor.”

“She said she got everyone’s permission for this thing.”

“She called my dad, not my mom. The school knows to call my dad for anything real about me. They call mom if they want her to volunteer for a food drive or something.” Bryce rarely talked about his dad and he couldn’t hide the bitterness from his tone as he did now.

Logan glanced at me. Corrigan quieted, skimmed an eye over Bryce and turned to me.

I watched Bryce and he looked up to find my eyes on him.

“Don’t even,” he bit out.