mind if I do,” she sings and grins happily at me. She’s a tyrant.
I’m having a fuck of a time concentrating on my food when Lennon’s wearing a white shirt and no fucking bra. Not to mention how she’s moaning over the pizza like it’s the best fucking thing she’s ever put in her mouth, and all I can think of is I’ve got something much better to put in there.
“Good?” I ask, focusing on my beer. I’m trying to be a nice guy and not stare directly at her tits.
“So good,” she sighs.
Just like my life, my bed, and my pizza, Lennon’s taken over my remote. Not that I’m watching the shit anyway. No, I’m watching Lennon watch TV while she eats. She’s watching Jeopardy, yelling out the answers. So far she’s nine out of ten.
“You go to college or something?”
“Nope,” she mumbles around a huge bite. She doesn’t even bother to look at me when she answers.
“How the hell do you know all this shit then?” Shrugging her shoulders, she continues to stare at the TV. I can’t figure this broad out. “Straight A student?” I know nothing about her, and for some damn reason, I’d kinda like to know something other than her name.
“I didn’t make it past tenth.” Her eyes drop and she frowns. That surprises the fuck out of me. She’s uneducated?
“No shit?” I even made it to graduation, and I don’t know half the shit she’s spouting off.
“No shit. I had a sort of colorful childhood. School wasn’t a priority.” What does that even mean?
“Oh yeah? Care to elaborate?” I’m digging for anything I can get about her. Why do I do this to myself?
Lennon
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to Buck when he asks me questions about myself. Is it because he’s genuinely curious, or is he just being friendly? Is he looking for reason to hate me? Why do I even care? Maybe he’s trying to make the best of an awkward situation by being friendly and making conversation. I will admit, I do appreciate it.
I like Buck. I don’t know him, but I feel like I do. He’s easy going and laid back, which makes me feel comfortable and content around him. I feel like I can just be me. Anyone you can be yourself around is someone you want around.
“A colorful childhood?”
“It was unstable.” At fucking best. There was too much going on, too much moving around, to bother with school. Education was a luxury. It was the least of my worries when I could be doing all kinds of other shit to make money during those hours that would’ve been spent in class learning. I was lucky that they let me make it to the ninth grade. School just wasn’t a priority for me.
“So how’d you get so goddamn smart?” He asks, looking between the TV and me. That’s easy.
“Books ... lots and lots of books.” A lot of moving around equals a lot of free time spent in the back of a car or the bed of a truck, meaning plenty of time to read. I read anything I could get my hands on.
“Books,” he repeats thoughtfully. Yeah, books of all kinds. Books from libraries from all of the country.
Truthfully, those libraries are where this whole shit-storm started, where things started to unravel. Because of my lifestyle, I had a lot of unreturned library books. I’m not proud of it. A fourteen-year-old with boxes of stolen library books is where I started the slide down my slippery slope.
“Books,” I confirm. Books were my salvation, my saving grace, my companion, and my slow progression into the world of crime.
“Huh,” he muses, and that’s the end of that. Buck’s back to being uninterested and neutral. Staring at the TV, he stops talking and goes back to drinking his beer and eating his pizza. It sucks. As much as I don’t want to talk about me, I do. Deep down I want to talk to someone about anything really, but its obvious Buck is not going to be that person.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell him. With his beer bottle at his lips, he looks up at me and frowns. He almost looks ...
I’m having a fuck of a time concentrating on my food when Lennon’s wearing a white shirt and no fucking bra. Not to mention how she’s moaning over the pizza like it’s the best fucking thing she’s ever put in her mouth, and all I can think of is I’ve got something much better to put in there.
“Good?” I ask, focusing on my beer. I’m trying to be a nice guy and not stare directly at her tits.
“So good,” she sighs.
Just like my life, my bed, and my pizza, Lennon’s taken over my remote. Not that I’m watching the shit anyway. No, I’m watching Lennon watch TV while she eats. She’s watching Jeopardy, yelling out the answers. So far she’s nine out of ten.
“You go to college or something?”
“Nope,” she mumbles around a huge bite. She doesn’t even bother to look at me when she answers.
“How the hell do you know all this shit then?” Shrugging her shoulders, she continues to stare at the TV. I can’t figure this broad out. “Straight A student?” I know nothing about her, and for some damn reason, I’d kinda like to know something other than her name.
“I didn’t make it past tenth.” Her eyes drop and she frowns. That surprises the fuck out of me. She’s uneducated?
“No shit?” I even made it to graduation, and I don’t know half the shit she’s spouting off.
“No shit. I had a sort of colorful childhood. School wasn’t a priority.” What does that even mean?
“Oh yeah? Care to elaborate?” I’m digging for anything I can get about her. Why do I do this to myself?
Lennon
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to Buck when he asks me questions about myself. Is it because he’s genuinely curious, or is he just being friendly? Is he looking for reason to hate me? Why do I even care? Maybe he’s trying to make the best of an awkward situation by being friendly and making conversation. I will admit, I do appreciate it.
I like Buck. I don’t know him, but I feel like I do. He’s easy going and laid back, which makes me feel comfortable and content around him. I feel like I can just be me. Anyone you can be yourself around is someone you want around.
“A colorful childhood?”
“It was unstable.” At fucking best. There was too much going on, too much moving around, to bother with school. Education was a luxury. It was the least of my worries when I could be doing all kinds of other shit to make money during those hours that would’ve been spent in class learning. I was lucky that they let me make it to the ninth grade. School just wasn’t a priority for me.
“So how’d you get so goddamn smart?” He asks, looking between the TV and me. That’s easy.
“Books ... lots and lots of books.” A lot of moving around equals a lot of free time spent in the back of a car or the bed of a truck, meaning plenty of time to read. I read anything I could get my hands on.
“Books,” he repeats thoughtfully. Yeah, books of all kinds. Books from libraries from all of the country.
Truthfully, those libraries are where this whole shit-storm started, where things started to unravel. Because of my lifestyle, I had a lot of unreturned library books. I’m not proud of it. A fourteen-year-old with boxes of stolen library books is where I started the slide down my slippery slope.
“Books,” I confirm. Books were my salvation, my saving grace, my companion, and my slow progression into the world of crime.
“Huh,” he muses, and that’s the end of that. Buck’s back to being uninterested and neutral. Staring at the TV, he stops talking and goes back to drinking his beer and eating his pizza. It sucks. As much as I don’t want to talk about me, I do. Deep down I want to talk to someone about anything really, but its obvious Buck is not going to be that person.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell him. With his beer bottle at his lips, he looks up at me and frowns. He almost looks ...
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