Page 34 of Mayhem

“That’s terrible. I don’t care who your mom is or what she does. I’ll always be your friend,” she says adamantly.

“You are very trusting.”

“No. I’m not really. I don’t trust everyone except you. So don’t fuck it up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I joke.

We chat a while longer about lighter topics until Hailee is done. She turns to me and fuck if I don’t have a huge-ass girl crush.

The chick is gorgeous. Her long blonde hair is wavy with a bandana tied up to keep it out of her face. Instead of bright red lipstick, she dons a dark reddish-purple, almost blue. Pairing perfectly with her skin. She also has a smoky eye and has painted similar symbols on her stomach and hands.

“This is a glow-in-the-dark paint. I figured this way we might recognize each other if we get separated.”

“Fuck, Hails. You look amazing. Like seriously, stay close. I don’t trust that you might not get kidnapped tonight. I mean, if I was into chicks, I might kidnap you myself.”

Her cheeks turn a rosy red. “Thanks. You look pretty hot yourself.”

“Only because you’re an artist. The rave should have already started. You ready?”

“Yep. Let me grab a jacket and get us a ride.”

Shit.

I hadn’t even thought of how we would get to this place.

I follow her back to her bedroom. She grabs an old leather jacket from the closet, completing her badass biker chick look.

She taps out a quick message on her phone before turning to me.

“Jacob said he could give us a ride. I’m going to have to do his homework for a week, but at least we won’t have to walk.”

“I’ll help. I mean, this was my idea after all.”

“It’s all good. He said he would be here soon. He was at his girlfriend’s house down the road.”

We move to the porch. It only takes a couple of minutes for Jacob to pull up.

“Fuck, Hailee,” he calls out the driver’s window.

“Don’t say a word,” she warns.

“Fine, but I don’t want to read about you in the newspaper tomorrow.”

“You’re only saying that because then I can’t make good on our deal.”

He chuckles. “Get in, trouble.”

I climb in the back seat, expecting Hailee to climb in the front, but she climbs in back with me.

“Oh? Am I a chauffeur now?” Jacob jokes.

“Shut up. We are going to the old warehouse on Stratton.”

“Ah. You’re going to the rave. Your outfits make sense now.”

“Just put some music on and keep your commentary to yourself, please.”

“Of course, madam. Whatever to make the ride more comfortable,” he says sarcastically before turning up the music.

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