No Prince

by Stevie J. Cole

“I’m gonna go to jail for something, Roe. Might as well be you.”

“Who doesn’t drink milkshakes? You really are a psychopath.” “And you really are hot.”

“He’s not fucking your friend. Calm your tits.” “He’d stick his dick in a cinnamon roll if it got him off.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever given a shit about.” I grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of me. Her hands went to my face. “Good.” And then she kissed me.

We fell into the ratty lawn chairs, and my gaze locked on the license plate of a brown Camaro that read: DABIGBOSS. “Da Big Boss, ‘bout to get his ass beat.”

Wolf lowered his window, then shooed the smoke out. “Get high, neighborhood. Get high.”

“You’re a dick, you know it?” “No. That’s a dick.”

“Hendrix is…” One of her brows lifted in thought. “Did he get dropped on his head as a child?” “Probably. Also, I beat him with a whiffle ball bat a lot when we were kids.”

Every time, she thought we were going to be one big happy family with a crack whore, a meth dealer, and a stripper daughter. Fun. How Dayton.

Monroe ignored me until we got home, where I begged her to forgive me by face planting between her thighs.

I had always wanted to ride a Ferris wheel, and now I was going to get a blowjob while doing it.

“You’re crazy. No shotgun, teenage weddings.” “Crazy about you, maybe.” He bit his lip on a smile before stopping at my locker. “God, you used to have so much game.” “No. I used to be the game, Roe.”

I need a protege.” Zepp facepalmed and shook his head, mumbling whiffle ball bat under his breath. Bellamy frowned at Hendrix. “The last person who needs a protegee is you, man.” “You go fuck yourself with that negativity.”

He frowned at me. “I do not go into the flood without a raincoat, Red.” His gaze strayed to Zepp. “Unlike you, evidently. Just sowing seed left and fucking right.” He pretended to toss out feed for hens.