Page 1 of Don't Make Me Beg
PROLOGUE
Luka
Eight years ago…
The music blares all around me and my drunken classmates as I make my way through the crowded pool party, my eyes searching for a petite, brown haired girl in glasses.
My best friend isn’t really the partying type. If she had things her way, we’d be celebrating graduation in the comfort of my living room. Probably rewatching one of her favorite old horror movies that I still have to pretend don’t scare the shit out of me.
I swear, she’s such a little weirdo…not that she looks like it from the outside.
She’s a good girl in every sense of the word, a literal seventeen-year-old Girl Scout—I know, I can barely handle the irony—and I’m just the bad boy next door neighbor her parents can’t wait for her to move away from.
Too bad for them, getting rid of me won’t be that easy.
Little do they know, it’s not just graduation we’re celebrating tonight…I’ve been buzzing with excitement all day. And now that the festivities are over, I finally get to tell her my good news.
I got into the arts and technology school that Scout and I have been dreaming of attending since Freshman year.
My acceptance letter came in the mail this morning. I’d almost given up hope after Scout received hers back in November. Apparently, there was a glitch with my application. Better late than never, I guess.
I’m just excited for all the fun we’re going to have over the next four years, now that Scout won’t have her parents constantly breathing down her neck. You never know, I may even manage to break out of the friend zone if I’m lucky…
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I freeze as I read the message.
Scout
I’m pulling the best friend card tonight. I need your help with something illegal, but you can’t ask me what it is or why.
You know I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important…
You in?
I’ll be there in ten.
“Just up here. You can park in the alley,” Scout says, pointing to the dark, narrow alley off our small town’s cobblestone street. I’m far enough away not to draw attention to her, but close enough that she can still sprint to me if something goes south.
I know this is reckless, but this is so out of character for her. Scout doesn’t do shit like this. She doesn’t break rules for the hell of it. Her father is the town judge and a strict one at that. Image is everything to her family, so I can’t imagine what must’ve happened to push Scout past her breaking point.
The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t make myself ask. I clench my jaw and breathe deeply before my imagination can conjure anything too crazy. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know… If I’m going to be her getaway driver, the last thing I need is to be distracted by my blinding rage.
Right now, I’ve got to keep a cool head. Scout’s never asked me for something like this, and I’ll be damned if I let her down when she obviously needs me the most.
The black face mask sits atop her head, rolled up like a beanie, and her light brown hair hangs in a long braid down her back.
It’s not how she usually wears her hair, and I can’t seem to stop staring. She’s so fucking pretty with those sparkling hazel eyes that look extra green tonight, and her full pink lips. Her oversized gold-rimmed glasses only add to her innocent appearance. Her soft, feminine features are contrasted by her baggy dark clothes—my clothes actually—because everything she owns is light or pastel colored.
I’ve already had to bite my tongue about a thousand times to keep from telling her she looks like an angry Care Bear cosplaying. Somehow, I don’t think that’d go over too well. As cute and harmless as she seems, the girl has a hell of a temper. Luckily, it’s never been directed toward me, though I did witness her wrath firsthand when she blew up on my little brother, Guy, in middle school. He wouldn’t stop teasing us, trying to get us to admit we liked each other. I’d never heard such a creative string of swear words used together, but she managed to hit every single one of his insecurities—even gave him some new ones thathe still thinks about to this day. That was the last time he teased her, and it didn’t take long for the word to get around. No one ever bothered us again after that.
I don’t know why, but I love that about her. Maybe it’s because I’m the only person she trusts enough to be her true self. I love that people underestimate her, that she’s got this fire in her belly fueling her through life. I think passion is the hottest attribute a person can have; it doesn’t even matter what it’s for. And Scout Sinclair has it in spades, especially when it comes to her art.
People don’t know this about her, but she’s a vicious little thing. All sweet and unassuming on the surface, but she’s got a darkness inside her. Like recognizes like.
I probably don’t know half of the secrets she keeps from me, but I know they’re there. I can see it in the way she keeps herself so in control, the way she’s put together on the outside without a hair out of place. From the outside, she seems so meek and polite, but her art tells a whole different story.
It’s dark and gritty and almost scary. It’s like overhearing someone grieving in another language. I don’t have to know what’s being said to feel the pain. It’s a vibration, an undeniable energy that evokes so many contrasting emotions you almost feel like you’ve been hit by a truck after being in a room full of her paintings.
She doesn’t let people in easily and she keeps her circle small —ie. Just me. I’m the circle… and maybe my mom too. She’s sort of adopted her into our family… unofficially, of course. We’re next door neighbors, best friends… basically family at this point.
