Page 12 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I was shocked no one else noticed, but it wasn’t anyone’s business except his own, I supposed. When he was ready, he’d talk about it. Until then, there would just be awkward laughter and shifting of the conversations. Sometimes I shifted it for him, to alleviate his discomfort.

He never outright thanked me, but he didn’t have to. That was what friends did—backed each other up when shit got weird.

“Hey, can I hit that?” a voice said from behind me.

I glanced up to see the Southern charmer standing there with his eyes glued to the joint in Hank’s hand. He walked into the room like he owned the place, plucked the joint from Hank’s hand, and took a big drag from it.

After he finished, he passed it to Eric and frowned a little. “Shit, I miss Kentucky weed. I swear, y’all’s stuff up here is laced with actual weeds or something. It doesn’t hit the same. Back home, you’d be messed up for days.”

That isn’t how weed works, Reggie.He was so full of it. People didn’t get messed up on weed for days.

He entered our conversation, turned it completely into his own, and it was a nonstop, one-sided talk about how great damn Kentucky was. The food, the weed, the goddamn sports. Really, I’d never seen a guy get such a hard-on from talking about a state in my life. I wished I could get it up just by thinking about bluegrass music, bourbon, and Kentucky Fried Chicken.

If Kentucky were a cock, Reggie would be the first in line to suck it.

“And what’s up with the girls here?” he asked, glancing back and forth between us.

“What do you mean what’s up with them?” Hank asked.

“Well, shit. I’m just looking for some random hook-ups. Do you know who would be down for that?”

I looked down at the ground to roll my eyes so hard. This guy was like the poster child of a douchebag. I could hardly handle it. He couldn’t be real, could he? He couldn’t be that damn transparent. I couldn’t believe all the girls at school were throwing themselves at him.

Hank shrugged. “I don’t know. The girls are pretty cool here. I’ve been with Raine for four years now, though, so I don’t really think about who to bang,” Hank commented.

When Hank made a commitment, he stuck to it. He and Raine would probably end up being one of those couples at a wedding, still on the dance floor after being married for sixty years or some shit.

Hank kept talking, and I kept wishing Reggie would leave. Every time he smoked the joint and talked shit, I wanted to snatch it from his hands and tell him to piss off. Sure, I wasn’t smoking anymore, but the supply was from KJ—my former dealer. I knew it was the good stuff. Reggie didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

He went over to pet Ham, and Ham growled at him.

Good boy.

“If you want to know about the best girls in the sack, though, Landon here is the one to go to. He’s had more girls than Clinton,” Eric commented.

I groaned, not wanting to be dragged into this conversation with Reggie.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe you can help a playa out,” Reggie said, nudging me in the arm.

Playa. This white boy from Kentucky, wearing an oversized Biggie Smalls shirt, had actually just said the word playa, and that sealed the deal for me—I couldn’t stand the new guy.

I shrugged. “It seemed you had it handled pretty well with a girl a few minutes ago downstairs. I doubt you need help.”

“You mean that Stacey girl? Nah, she’s a bit too…much for my liking.”

“Tracey,” I corrected, and I didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, but it bothered me that he had the nerve to call her by the wrong name. He was probably the kind of douche who called girls by the wrong name on purpose just to seem cool and aloof.

You know what else bothered me? That he was in my room, smoking my weed.

“Tracey, Stacey, whatever. It’s all the same, right?” he joked, elbowing me like we were the best of buddies.

Yeah, okay, playa-playa.

“What’s the deal with that Monica bitch?” he asked.

“She’s not a bitch,” I snapped. What the heck? Was I now standing up for the likes of Monica? This night needed to end.

“Landon and Monica have a…history. I’d stay clear of that one,” Hank commented.

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