Page 22 of Runaways

"Hey," Calvin says. He takes another sip of his beer and then sets it on the coffee table in front of him. "You're Silas's friend without a name, and you're wearing my jersey."

"Yeah, I am," I say, putting on my best flirty tone. "You spilled beer all over me, remember? I had to change."

"Well, it looks sexy as fuck on you," he says.

"You think so?"

"Fuck yes."

"It looks even better from the back," I tease.

"Oh, yeah?" he says. "Let's see it then."

I lean forward, setting the piss cup right next to Calvin's beer before I stand up. I move in front of him, blocking his view of the table. "What do you think?"

"I think you're right. That looks damn good."

"I told you." Before I sit down, I grab Calvin's beer, leaving the piss cup in its place.

"You know what, though?" he asks. "I'm not sure I like that pink thong you're wearing. I think that would look better on my bedroom floor. What do you think?"

"I think we need to finish our drinks first."

"Deal," Calvin says, grabbing the piss cup from the table.

I freeze, hoping he doesn't notice how warm it is.

"Cheers," he says.

My heart pounds as he brings the cup to his lips. He tilts his head back—way back, like you would if you planned to chug the whole thing. I see it in his eyes the moment it hits the back of his throat. He drops the cup into his lap, spilling the rest, and I quickly jump back before it sprays from his mouth, all over the table and his friend.

"Calvin, what the fuck?!" Archer shouts.

"Oh, my god!" Calvin shrieks, dry heaving as he leaps onto his feet and tears his shirt over his head. He tosses it aside and then drops to his knees, vomiting onto the carpet.

I should be getting out of here, but it's like a train wreck I can't look away from.

Silas calls my name, snapping me out of it, and I race toward the door, following him and Tate to the car.

"Getinthebackgetinthebackgetintheback," Silas repeats until we get to the vehicle. "And stay down."

Tires screeching, we pull away from the house just as Calvin runs outside. "Silas, you fucker!" he shouts after the vehicle. "I'm going to kill your friend!"

It's only after we're a few blocks away from the house that it registers that I'm lying on top of Tate in the backseat. He threads his fingers into my hair, his thumb rubbing small circles against the skin right behind my ear.

"Well?"he prompts. "Was I right?"

I swallow a lump in my throat.It's not hard to figure out what someone's kinks are."Right about what?"

"Did you have fun?"

I smile, relieved. "Yeah. I had fun."

And I did have fun. I'll take any chance to shit on shitty people that I can. I'm glad he drank piss. I wonder if he'll recognize me the next time he sees me.

I awkwardly rest my head against his chest until we pull into the parking lot and then quickly sit up, smoothing down the jersey before exiting the vehicle and heading for the staircase.

"What's your mom going to say when you walk in wearing that?" Tate laughs.

---