Page 10 of Something So Strong

I spent ten years of my life surrounded by dicks. It was literally twig and berries morning, noon, and night at Lancaster, and not once did I ever let my eyes wander out of anything other than a curiosity about where I fit in the scheme of things. Above average, by the way. I may not have a total weapon like what Romi and Sax have to lug around with me everywhere I go, but more than most has never gotten me any complaints.

Goddamn it. Now I’m thinking about how I’d measure up to Kai.

I already know he’s packing heat, but is he a grower too?

Would it be the same size as mine? Or bigger?

Why does the thought of him being smaller annoy me so much?

Why the fuck am I thinking about another guy’s knob in the first place?

I. Am. Not. Gay.

I’m not even bi-curious, for Christ’s sake.

Dear Lord, who I don’t believe in. Will you please bless me with the presence of my asshole friend Saxon and the fuckwittery that accompanies him wherever he doth go?

Saxon’s been carrying around a face like a recently paddled ass for the past two hours, which has been a great help to me. The weird girl from the kitchen picked a fight with him and Alma rode his ass throughout our entire induction, so win-win for Jesse.

He played the role I cast him for perfectly—best friend number two.

Specialty: Causing distraction through self-centered narcissism and the inability to let sleeping dogs lie.

Senji Saxon Suzuki, I could kiss you, I think to myself as I push him out of the small function room we’ve spent the past hour in and out into the hallway.

“The fuck was that for?” he scowls.

Shrugging, I smirk at him with a look that says I don’t know what you’re talking about and go to step around him, but he mirrors my movements.

“Turn around,” Romeo grumbles, stepping between us and physically making Saxon about-face before glaring at me from the corner of his eye.

“What?” I mime. Again with the same faux cluelessness.

“You’re as bad as each other,” Romeo responds with a why do I put up with this shit tone, and guides Saxon towards the door at the end of the hallway.

“Okay, you can let go of me now,” Saxon gripes, shaking his shoulders until he’s free. Opening the door, the smell of way too many floral scents assaults our noses. Waving his hand in front of his face, Saxon leads the way. “It’s a fucking potpourri of—”

“Potpourri?”

“Yeah.” He scrunches up his face as he circles on the spot, taking in the room.

Floor to ceiling on all four walls are racks and racks of uniforms. An old wooden table is off to one side with a giant bowl of the aromatic offender almost spilling from within it. I try to breathe through my mouth because the smell is starting to hurt my head, but it just tastes like someone sprayed my grandmother’s perfume right onto my tongue. Coughing, I jog to the door and frantically fling it back and forth, trying to fan some of the flowery stench out of the room.

“This is such bullshit,” Saxon announces, making sure the spotlight is still on him. “I don’t even have any time to settle in. That bitch just throws me in the deep end and hopes I can swim.”

“You’ll be fine, mate,” I tell him from the hallway. “You’re the first one to let us know you’re good at everything.”

“Fuck you,” he declares before continuing to babble and he shifts to lean against the table.

“Lovely.” Romeo rolls his eyes and takes a cleaner’s uniform down from a rack and holds it out to show me. “Looks a little more French maid than practical.”

“You should try it on.”

“It’ll cost ya.”

“Can I take pictures? Gotta recoup my money somehow.”

“Are we about to start an OnlyFans page?”

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