Read Online Bottom Feeder by Maria G. Cope - Free Book Online

myself
into?

 
    Maddy
     
    Jackson should be gracing the covers
of fashion magazines or, you know, playing the lead role in my
fantasies. He should not be talking about “business” with Daddy. I
have to find a way to stop this. If not for his sake, for
Violet’s.
    “ Hey, skank.”
    I park my bike beside Dixon’s Bronco.
“Hey, Panties,” I retort, sticking my tongue out.
    “ You better be glad I love
you,” Dixon points his finger, “Otherwise I’d have to cut you for
that.”
    The story of how Dixon and I became
friends also explains his nickname, Panties. I guess now is a good
time for a flashback.
    Picture this: fifth grade gym,
resident toolbox Tommy Crenshaw decides to pants Dixon, mid-serve,
during a volleyball match. Embarrassing enough, right? The entire
class, including Coach Gaines, points and laughs at Dixon’s cotton
granny panties dotted with tiny purple flowers. Turns out he ran
out of clean underwear and Mrs. Jarrett forced him to wear a pair
of his sister’s instead.
    Anyway. Dixon stood frozen with tears
streaming down his face. I ran to shield his body from the class,
shaking his shoulders to snap out of his trance. Because, I mean,
his pants were hugging his ankles.
    We became inseparable. The first time
I walked into Dixon’s house with his dad yelling, “I will not wear
women’s underwear, I am going commando!” told me the panty incident
was not an uncommon occurrence in the Jarrett household
    “ Ooookay Panties, whatever
you say.” Dixon reaches into his duffle bag and chucks a shoe in my
direction. I duck as it thuds against his truck. “Missed
me.”
    “ Next time, Maddy . . .
next time,” he threatens with his best Scarface imitation.
    I turn around and a pair of socks
smacks me in the forehead.
    Dixon raises a suspicious eyebrow when
immediate revenge tactics are not applied. My smile is a silent
promise of payback.
    “ What have you been up to
since I left this morning?” he asks, hoisting my bicycle inside the
back of the Bronco.
    “ Nada. Jackson arrived as
I was leaving.” I try sounding nonchalant.
    “ Ew.” He makes a disgusted
face and climbs into the truck. “Jackson, again?”
    “ The one and only.” I make
an effort to leap into the passenger seat of his ogre of a truck.
It’s a sad sight, really.
    “ You like him,
huh?”
    Of course I do. “No. Why would you say
that?”
    “ You just bit your lip.
You, sweetness, are not a lip biter.” He rumbles the Bronco to life
and backs over the cracked pavement. “You know better, Maddy. Libby
still uses a picture with his eyes gouged out as a
bookmark.”
    Yes, and that is not weird at
all.
    “ Why is he talking to
Cordell?” Dixon continues. “Another ‘business’ deal for The Don?”
He often refers to my father as The Don. As in mafia boss. As
in The Godfather .
    I am uncomfortable talking about him,
even if the conversation is something as simple as the weather. If
given the opportunity I’m sure he would try to control that,
too.
    “ Are you staying for the
entire show tomorrow night?”
    Dixon plays Brick
in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at the local theatre. Tomorrow night is the last
performance of the season. The house is always packed for the final
show since the director, Mr. Lipinksi, does something
unconventional. Last season Dracula was uprooted to a seedy side of Memphis where he
became a pacifist recluse after a nasty hoarding incident. It was
pretty classic. Tomorrow night’s show has been transformed into a
hip-hop musical, with some characters in drag. It’s hilarious and
controversial. But Lipinski makes it work.
    “ Of course. I’m the
certified minion, remember?”
    “ You could’ve been in the
show. You only had to sing for Lipinski and you would have played Maggie instead
of Laney Minks. That girl is a dreadful, atrocious
beast.”
    I roll my eyes. “What eighteen year
old says things like, ‘dreadful, atrocious beast?’”
    “ This one.”
    The remainder of our drive