Page 107 of Forbidden Lessons

Wish I could open a window and escape.

Ezra waves a hand dramatically in front of his face. “You know that’s against the rules, right?”

I grin at him around the joint I’m puffing on. “You know I don’t give a fuck, right?” I gesture with two fingers between us. “Familial immunity.”

My brother snorts, shaking his head as he takes a slow scan of my dorm room. The way his nose wrinkles, it’s obvious I disgust him.

He’s the epitome of a germaphobe, with his immaculate gelled hair, his perfectly pressed clothes, and his obsession with hand sanitizer and mouthwash. His room is another one Rileyavoids at all costs because it’s cleaner than Jace’s and somehow creepier than Dahmer’s.

He nudges an empty beer can with his foot. “Celebrating?”

“Fuck, yeah.” I throw my hands up, one of them holding another beer. “Bitch is fucking gone.”

I was in no state to go to class today, but I have ferrets everywhere and they were quick to inform me that Haven did not show up to any of her classes today. It’s two in the afternoon on a glorious Wednesday, and I’m taking a long weekend.

Like a really,reallylong weekend.

Because there’s no fucking way I’m staying sober long enough to rememberanyof the shit that went down yesterday.

look how fucking wet you are

Oops. Ha ha. That was a close one.

“Grab a beer!” I drag myself up by the bed, and then perch on the edge as I rummage through the cans on my nightstand. One of them’s gotta be sealed. I brought two six packs in here last night to supplement my fresh bottle of Jäger. “Wait, no, fuck. Let’s do shots!”

Ezra looks almost exactly like that meme of the little blond girl in her car seat, with his lip raised until too-white teeth catch the light. “It’s the middle of the day. And the middle of the week.”

“Bro. Bro!” I lunge forward, but he steps deftly aside and I almost face plant when I miss the sleeve of his pastel yellow polo shirt with the popped collar.

Do you have to iron them that way, or does he buy them already popped?

“We’re in fuckingcollege!” I roar, ducking to grab my half-empty bottle of Jäger. “The fuck we care what time is it?” I clear my throat. Concentrate. “It is.”

He holds up a hand when I try to press the bottle into his chest, shoving it back at me hard enough to send me sprawling onto the bed.

I start laughing, because thank God the mattress broke my fall, and then I can’t stop, because weed.

“Glad you’re happy,” Ezra says dryly. “That slut was seriously messing with your mood.”

look at me when I use you

Setting my beer down, then carefully putting my dead roach in the makeshift ashtray I created out of a dented beer can, I screw off the Jäger’s lid and take a swig.

“You must be ecstatic she’s gone.” My brother’s voice moves with him as he prowls through my room like he’s taking careful note of every crumpled up sweet packet, beer can, or crusty sock.

I’m not usually a pig. But it’s hard to think about cleaning when all I can think about is how fragile and slender and warm and smooth Haven’s neck felt in my fingers as I tried to crush the life out of?—

Fuck!

“Goddamn slut. Thought she could fuck half the football team and you wouldn’t find out about it.”

I stare at the bottle of Jäger, start circling my wrist to make the booze swish around inside. “Yeah,” I rasp. “The fucking audacity on that one.”

“You know how hard it was to break that news to you? I almost couldn’t do it.”

My neck twists reluctantly, but I know my brother’s cues by now. If I don’t look at him, acknowledge this sliver of mercy he gave me all those years ago, he’ll make me pay for it.

And I owe him for it. How else would I have found out about the guys running a train on Haven? You’d think she’d tell me she was back in town for the weekend.

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