Chapter 1
Prologue: Angel
Bryan was in so much trouble right now.
So maybe stiffing these drunk college frat boys out of drugs they couldn’t get in Georgetown wasn’t the best idea. So maybe him taking their money and running wasn’t the best idea. But when had Bryan ever had a good idea?
His little sister, Angel, was who he was thinking of now. It wasn’t her fault he was here. She had gotten herself into trouble back home, and, well, now the family was on its last legs thanks to some brat boy who’d crossed him and Angel. It was all they could do to send Bryan to college. And now, here he was, stealing money from frat boys to pay for his sister to eat this week.
So yeah, Bryan couldn’t be in any more of a pickle.
Breathing hard, he ran for the hills the main campus sat on. If he could get inside someone’s dorm or another hall, perhaps he’d be safe. Perhaps he could hide and the boys would forget by tomorrow.
Didn’t seem likely though.
He dashed around some sorority girls who were obviously high on something, be it cocaine or pot, he didn’t care. They giggled wildly as he dashed around them. It wouldn’t have been funny if they weren’t high, but they were, so it’s all fucking funny. He wished he understood the joke.
Bryan held the brown bag of white powder in his left hand, his right clamping down hard on a cramp developing in his rib. He knew he couldn’t run much farther. But he had the money in the bag. He needed both, both the cocaine in the bag and the money. His sister had to eat today.
Chapter 1:
“It’s seven o’clock, Luke!”
No, no, no, and no.
“Luke Ross, if you do not get your lazy ass out of bed by the time I count to three you’re not getting breakfast. Come on!”
“Fine...” I mumble, throwing the covers off of my naked body and swinging my legs around to plant them on the cold wooden floor. My mother left the room, probably to put a stale bagel in the beat up toaster downstairs. I cross my room, opening a drawer of my dresser. I grab a pair of blue boxers and pull on a pair of black skinny jeans, and as I walk to the pile of barely clean shirts on the floor, I feel this stabbing pain in my toe. Damn. I pick up an Aerosmith shirt from the pile and pull it over my head on the way to sit on my bed.
I pull my bare foot up to check for the splinter that was stuck in my big toe. Sure enough, there it was, a big old thing. I yank it out swiftly, then shove my foot into a sock. Enough of this for today. High school’s hell enough. School is hell enough.
I lug myself into the bathroom, hoping to see something better than a skinny ass blond kid with bags under his eyes bigger than the whole neighborhood, but of course that’s what I see, my own blue eyes staring back at me. Avoiding my reflection, I run a brush through my tangled hair, leaving it sticking up in spikes. Who cares?
Grabbing my backpack and the toasted bagel from my mom, I head up the consistently uphill walk to Woodland High School. Another day...
“Hey, faggot!” comes a loud voice from the other side of the hallway when I enter the doors. I turn to see Dante Roberts and his group of soccer assholes. They have nothing better to do than bully me, of course. Pick on the little guy.
“Hi, Dante, and the rest of you,” I mumble, twisting my lock to the third number in its combination. Dante saunters up to me.
Some background on Dante: He’s probably the most homophobic piece of shit I have ever come across, even more of one than my father, which is saying something else entirely. He is also incredibly handsome, with a jawline as regal as the fucking Rockies and dirty blonde hair that looks perfect any way he styled it. So both a homophobic shit and hot as fuck.
Wow, can I ever pick them.
“Did you and your boyfriend fuck last night?” Oh, are you ever asking for it, Dante. So I mouth off because I’m gonna get beat up later, and he’s gonna like it, and because I’m a little shit, I’m gonna let him. Just like always!
“You bet your ass,” I smirk, letting his jaw drop for a second before reverting his face back to its regular annoying self.
“Bet you don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Nope. I stay free so I can suck dick in the bathrooms after school.” Dante’s perfect lips drop into a perfect o when I say that, so, grabbing my binder, I slam my locker door and walk to my homeroom, where I’ll see the one person besides my mom who actually gives a shit about me- my glasses-wearing nerd best bud, Alex Stone.
