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Back Losers: Part I Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Table of Contents
  2. Content Note
  3. A Note From The Author
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. Acknowledgements
  57. Also By Harley Laroux
  58. About The Author

“Do you want me to show someone?” The question hung in the air, a long pause without an answer. But her silence was an answer in itself.

I prodded experimentally, “Who do you think I should show it to first? Vincent? He’ll be jealous as hell to know I have it. Or how about Manson? Every time he stands next to your locker, he’d be thinking about it. What about Lucas?”

Her gulp was audible. Her voice didn’t carry as much of her usual confidence as she said, “Very funny, Jason. Now, would you get lost?”

I left the girls’ locker room that day with a lot more than vindication for all the work I’d been doing without pay. There was more to her than I’d thought. Beneath that perfect exterior lurked a masochistic little creature longing for someone to take control. It was a side of her I could actually understand, something I could relate to.

Something I could play with.

21

21

Jessica

I made up a story to tell my parents once I got home. Mom thought I’d spent the night at Danielle’s again, and I didn’t correct her, but trying to explain my car breaking down and my ensuing bargain was significantly more difficult.

In the end, I settled for telling them I’d gone to a local shop and knew the mechanics from high school, so they were able to give me a discount. Dad wanted to know the hard numbers to make sure he couldn’t get me a better deal elsewhere, but I was able to deflect by focusing on Mom’s questions instead.

“Who are these boys again?” she said, narrowing her eyes at me from the end of the table. We were seated for dinner, the first full meal I’d had all day.

“Lucas and Manson,” I said, trying to keep my mouth stuffed with as much food as I could to delay the questions. But Mom reached over and smacked my hand as I reached for another roll.

“Stop stuffing your face, Jessica Marie, slow down.” She sighed heavily in disgust. Across the table, my little sister, Steph, snickered, pleased to see someone else getting scolded. “Lucas and…Manson, you said? Those better not be the same boys that got expelled for assaulting other students.”

Damn it, of course she remembered that. Both incidents had resulted in the school sending letters to parents explaining the situations and the action that had been taken. Mom had lost it both times, convinced that Wickeston was going to hell in a handbasket and my high school was growing more dangerous by the day.

“Well, I mean…yes?” I winced, and Mom threw up her hands in exasperation, glaring at my dad as if this was all his fault.

“Roger, are you really not going to say anything about this?” she demanded. “About our daughter going to a shop run by criminals?”