Page 411 of Hell Hath No Fury
“There’s always room for improvement,” I taunt, fixing my hair, giving it that ‘just got out of bed after a twenty-four-hour fuck-fest’ look.
I can’t help but chuckle when I see her pretend to gag at the way I’m vainly grooming my dark locks. Damn, I wish Angela was coming to this stupid-ass dance with me, then at least I’d have some fun. Not that she would have gone with me if I had asked, though.
She’s been acting off lately. Like she’s keeping a secret from me or something. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid after what went down last spring. I mean, telling my best friend that I thought I might be falling for her wasn’t my best moment. And she sure as shit didn’t take it too well either, slapping me in the face to knock some sense into me.
“Owen Turner, you have no idea what the word love even means. And frankly, neither do I. All I know is that you don’t love me, and I don’t love you. We’re best friends. Don’t get ittwisted, dude,” she yelled at me like she thought the volume of her voice would drive the message through.
Oh, I got the message all right, and for a few months I was positive that she was wrong.
That what I was feeling could only be love.
I mean, I wanted to spend all my days with her. Shit, I was learning to be a better human being because of her. At least, that’s what I thought. And then she got herself a boyfriend for the summer and I thought I’d be consumed with jealousy. But that’s not at all what I felt. I was happy for her. Truly and unconditionally happy that she found a guy at her father’s church choir who worshiped her as much as I did. If I was in love, I mean really in love like I said I was, then why didn’t it hurt to see her with someone else?
Because, like always, Angela was right on the money.
I didn’t know the first thing about love.
Maybe I’m not cut out for it. Maybe I’m the kind of guy who is only good for a good fuck and that’s it? Who fucking knows? And honestly, who fucking cares? Not me. In fact, I feel like I dodged a bullet. I’m too fucking young and pretty to be tied down anyway. Fuck that.
“Dude, I can’t with this anymore. If I have to look at you making love to your reflection for another second, I’m going to barf. I’m out,” she says, flying off the bed and walking toward me to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Try not to break too many hearts tonight, will you?”
“No promises,” I tease, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Well, you can tell me about it tomorrow when we meet up. You’re still coming with me to fix the Jones’ roof, right?” Angela asks expectantly, worried that I’ll bail on her and the family whose house was torn to smithereens after the last hurricane that passed through these parts.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Bought everything we need and stashed it in the garage. I’ll be there bright and early.”
“So you mean after noon?” she cocks a knowing brow.
“I’ll be there at eight sharp. Promise.”
“You better, O. Don’t let me down,” she warns, walking toward the door.
“Never,” I mumble under my breath the minute she leaves the room.
I’ve let the people I care most about in the world down more times than I can count. It’s time I start showing up and being the man my parents can finally be proud of. I owe them that much. I owe Angela that much. It’s time for a change.
But first things first.
Tonight, everyone expects the old Owen to come out and play.
And that’s exactly what I’ll give them.
The Northside doesn’t deserve more from me anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
Colleen
“I’m so sorry, Colleen. I didn’t want to let you down like this,” Dorethea says before coughing on the line for a full minute.
“You could never let me down,” I try to comfort her once her coughing fit has settled down. “You’re sick, Dory. You should focus on staying home and getting well, not worry about attending this dance. I promise you the country club will have plenty more dances for you to go to before the end of summer.”
“I know. I just hate that you’re going to be alone there.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Momma and Sierra with me.” Even as I say it, I cringe a little bit.
Both my best friend and I know full well that Sierra will take off and be the life of the party the minute she steps foot inside the club, beckoning all the attention for herself. My mother, on the other hand, will spend most of the night sitting on her throne looking down at everyone else. Without Dorethea there to keep me company, I’ll have no choice but to suffer the dance utterly alone.
