Page 19 of Crybaby

I can see Rev watching us from a distance. He’s an observer, and I feel like he’s probably disappointed in me right now for falling for the charms of this football jock who’s probably had every girl in the school so far.

I’m not that girl, Rev.

My mind is trying to send him telepathic messages. Not that I wouldn’t kiss Carson—he’s so damn good-looking and is currently appearing entirely sweet with that stroke of cheekiness that teases my wild side. Why can’t I have them both?

I’m smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“You’re thinking about it,” says Carson, and he toys with a strand of my hair.

“It’s nice in my mind, but that’s where it’s staying,” I say, and his face creases with a frown. I don’t think anyone has ever said no to him.

I step around him and begin to walk over to where Rev is perched on a fallen tree stump flicking bottle caps into another burning drum.

I hear some of the boys laughing behind me, ribbingCarson for his epic fail.

“Crashed and burned, huh, Mav?” says one of them, borrowing a line from that old classic,Top Gun.

As much as I want to rip off Carson’s face and shove it so far down his neckhe can kiss his own ass, I am more amused by the fact that Darcie just owned the quarterback in front of his goons.

Damn, pretty sure I saw the moment his ego shattered into a million pieces when Darcie stepped around him, leaving him standing around, dick in hand.

What a fucking chump.

Girls like Darcie don’t fall for guys like Carson with all their bullshit. She is a little firecracker and just looking at her walking in my directionmakes me want to run and throw her over my shoulder and take her away from this shit-festival.

I don’t know what it is about her. She is different, and she still intrigues me as she did the very first night I met her, standing in her bunny outfit, setting the neighborhood alight—literally.

But we’ve not spoken since the day Giselle’s locker was set on fire…by us.

That was a week ago.

Filling my red cup with beer from the keg, I snort a humored chuckle when I see Giselle running after Carson who’s clearly spat his big boy dummy.

Poor girl. She needs to get the hint—he’s not interested. He’s probably already had her one too many times.

Being the only son of Mr. Assface Beckett, Carson is never lacking attention from the opposite sex, which is why Darcie rejecting him, and doing it publicly, is the best fucking thing I’ve seen all day.

“Just fuck off, will you?” he barks at Giselle, who stops dead in her tracks, blinking in utter shock that he would speak to her in such a way. Seems like Prince Charming has left the building.

This nightjust keeps on getting better.

I wasn’t planning on coming to this stupid bonfire because, well, it’s fucking lame. But when I overheard Darcie say she was coming, it was a no-brainer.

My life is complicated enough. I mean, I’m hardly boyfriend material. I seduce rich women and give them what they want to get what I want, and that’s to rob them blind. But Darcie isn’t your typical teenage girl, I suppose…and that is why she intrigues me.

I watch with interest as Giselle storms over to her, yanking her by the arm to grab her attention. Darcie stands her ground, which just gets me hard.

“Stay away from Carson!” she exclaims, and just when I thought Darcie couldn’t get any hotter, her full lips tip into an amused smirk.

“Trust me,” she rebukes arrogantly. “I wouldn’t fall for that lame performance. He’s all yours!”

Just for good measure, she shudders her disgust at Carson’s attempts with her.

She’s said it loud enough for the others to hear, and when they do, they erupt into laughter, hollering at the expense of the cocky quarterback. Good to see the shoe is on the other foot for once because that motherfucker is a spoiled royal brat.

Giselle’s mouth hangs open as Darcie has once again shown us who’s running this freak show.

Our classmates look at her in a new light because she’s so fucking fearless, and I am so fucking screwed. I bet Carson wants her even more now. It makes me laugh.

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