Page 27 of Crybaby

I wonder if she still wants to go to prom with me because it’s every chick’s dream to be on the arm of this dickhead jock. You just know he’s the type of guy who positions a mirror in the bathroom in just the right way so he can see himself from every angle, including while he’s taking a shit.

“Here ya go, Rev,” says Connie, handing me the box containing my pie. She’s wearing the retro blue waitress uniform with matching hat. Sometimes, she wears roller skates. Not today, though.

I slip her a twenty, which is way too much for some mushy-ass pie, but she deserves the tip having to deal with these primates. They all resemble a bunch of monkeys in the wild—jumping up and down and hollering loudly, fighting for food as they scavenge off each other’s plates. The boys walk around with their chests and cocks out, wanting to impregnate any female they see.

Fuck, I hate this town.

Someone wolf whistles, but I don’t respond because I’m no one’s bitch. I turn to leave, but Buckets stands in the way. “What’s in the box?”

“Something for your mom.” I shove him out of the way, but roll my eyes when I see Carson standing by the door. Darcie is by his side.

“I would love to stay and chat…” I pause and appear like I’m mid-thought. “Actually, that’s a lie. I would rather take a vow of silence and never speak again.”

Darcie giggles, and I smile.

“Hey, baby. Doing your charity work hanging out with these assholes? Your aunt and her congregation would be so proud. Blessed be.” And I do a sign of the cross.

“She’s here ’cause I texted her,” Carson says, riling me up.

“Oh, big boy, you know how to use a phone. Momma must be so proud.” I slap him on the shoulder playfully.

Foss jumps to command while I chuckle. “Oh, calm down, monkey boy. I don’t fight tweens.”

I don’t know why Darcie agreed to socialize with these clowns. I guess it beats being stuck at home with her zealot family. What I do know, however, is that these assholes are sweet on her. They like her, which is just the beginning of a shit show I don’t want to watch.

Maybe they want to initiate her into their little lame gang?

All the girls are glaring at her, probably envisioning cutting off all of that beautiful blonde hair. But I know they’re wondering—what does she have that they don’t?

Carson doesn’t “date.” So being seen in public with an actual girl has caused quite the stir. Maybe he wants her to be his queen…which has me thinking.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Darcie smiles, and I want to eat that smile off her pretty face as I smash my lips to hers.

“For what?” Carson asks, looking back and forth between us in confusion.

“For none of your business, candy ass.”

Buckets decides to play the hero and slams those big hands down onto my box of pie. But he really is too predictable. And also, he’s really fucking stupid.

I elbow him in the nose, the box never wavering from my hands.

Our classmates eagerly look on, the air filled with excitement at the possibility of a fight. But I have better things to do.

“Bye, baby. Make sure you shower before bed. You don’t know where these dogs have been.”

“I’ll be tucking her in,” Carson says with a shit-eating grin, needing to get in the last word.

“We know that won’t happen because your mom will be too busy tuckingyouin. Not that I would mind…’cause your mom.” I bite my knuckle, closing my eyes, recollecting all the good times we’ve had. “Am I right, boys?”

The entire diner erupts into catcalls and brain-dead hollers at the expense of Carson and his hot mom. I leave him to deal with the lewd comments, and suddenly, apple pie has never tasted sweeter.

Picking a gown for prom is like forcing a screaming cat into a dress and making it pose for photos.

I hate traditions, and if I could, I’d probably just go in my bunny onesie. I’m secretly excited to go with Rev, though—I think he could be a good time.

I’m half expecting him to arrive in a skeleton suit just to be different.

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