Punk 57

“I’ll see you at the drive-in tonight.” Trey’s thumb grazes my stomach, and then he gives me one last look before he leaves.

I feel crowded. Trey is demanding, Lyla’s in my business, and Masen is…everywhere. I feel his presence in the parking lot now, off to the right, like the sun burning on that side of my body.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lyla scolds. “If you don’t start being nicer, he’ll find someone who will.”

I shoot my eyes over to her, feeling them burn. “Nice, like you?” I ask. “Doesn’t look like being nice did you any good.” And I gesture over to J.D. who’s laughing with Masen.

Her boyfriend has barely spoken to her in days, probably because he knows what was written on the lawn last Friday was true—we all do—no matter how much Lyla denies it.

But then I do a double-take, it finally registering that J.D. is talking to Masen. When did they start being buddies?

“I can handle my boyfriend,” she says.

“And I can handle Trey. Thanks.”

I turn around and open the door, climbing into the Jeep. Lyla rounds the front of the car and slides into the passenger side, our little tiff still thick in the air. I wish she’d just go home. Every day is heavier and heavier with things I want to say to her, because I know she hates me. I want to call her on it, but I don’t know why. I can barely stand her, either, and there’s just as much bullshit to call me out on. Masen’s been doing it since he got here. Lyla and I are both hypocrites.

“Y’all, look at Katelyn,” Ten says, leaning up and gesturing out the front windshield.

I put my key to ignition and stop, look

ing up. Katelyn is talking to Masen again.

J.D. is gone, and she’s standing close to him, smiling and typing something into a phone. She then hands it to him, and he slips it in his pocket, looking down at her with all of his attention.

What?

My heart pounds in my chest, and I curl my fingers around the steering wheel, wanting to take her by the hair and pull her ass away from him. Really? Why is he looking at her like that? Why did he let her have his phone?

“Oh, God,” Lyla groans. “What is she doing?”

“She really is as dumb as a box of rocks.” Ten chuckles. “Five years from now, she’ll have four different baby-daddies. Just watch.”

My pulse rings in my ears as they laugh, but I blink, dropping my eyes.

Rocks.

Dumb. As. A. Box. Of. Rocks.

I raise my eyes, glaring at Masen Laurent. Motherfucker! That’s what he’s been calling me?

I turn my head away, so they can’t see me seething. Asshole.

Katelyn strolls away from him, looking all pleased with herself as she heads toward us.

“Did you just give him your phone number?” Lyla asks her, kneeling on the seat, one hand on a roll bar, another on the windshield.

Katelyn bites her bottom lip, trying to look coy as she holds my door and leans back playfully. “Well, I thought he might want it after last night.”

“Last night?” Ten presses.

“Yeah, I ran into him in the parking lot after cheer yesterday,” she admits, blushing as she drops her voice. “We were up late.”

She’s insinuating a lot more in those words, like she has a secret. My stomach fills with knots.

“What’s he like?” Lyla asks in a hushed voice, suddenly interested.

“Like an animal.” Katelyn grins. “I’m surprised I don’t have any bite marks.”