The Bad Boy's Dance (21 page)

Spencer coughed awkwardly into his fist. “Ah, um, this is my…” His eyes lit up with an idea. That couldn’t be good. “This is my fiancée! Yes!”

They both turned to me, Spencer begging me with his eyes. We had the type of silent communication only siblings can.

He widened his eyes.
“
Just go with it!”

I quirked an eyebrow. “What’s in it for me?”

He pursed his lips. “If you weren’t my sister…”

A half- grin. “Ah, but I am, therefore I require payment to rid you of your hoe.”

Spencer blinks. “Does that make you a pimp?”

I wink. “That means you’re the customer.”

“Um, are you like stupid or something?” the girl snapped. “Quit staring at each other.”

Ugh. Spencer
so
owed me for doing this. Again! Inhaling deeply, I began my performance. “How dare you, Spencer! And in our own bed, too! You swore, you swore to me you’d stop after the last skank you brought home gave you Gonorrhea! “

“You have Gonorrhea?!” the girl screeched. I found it amusing that she was less offended that I’d called her a skank and implied she was one of many conquests than the fact she might have the clap.

Spencer gave her an innocent smile and shrugged.

Continuing with my spiel, I noticed Dana coming up the stairs and motioned for her to wait. She halted, gazing at me with raised brows. “Listen up, Spencer, enough is enough! We have six children, we can’t afford any more! Did you even warn her that you had to have your genitalia surgically enhanced because it was too small? Did you tell her what the side-effects on her might be?”

I watched with glee as Spencer reddened, glaring at me. Insulting his man-parts was apparently excessive, but it did the job. Red- Head jolted out of bed, stealing the covers from around Spencer to hurry out. She paused at the doorway, spurring me to retreat a few steps as she glared at Spencer.

“You disgusting pig!” she spat, stomping past Dana and down the stairs.

Spencer, left without anything to cover himself, curled into a ball with a pillow over his front. Dana joined me at the doorway and grinned at Spencer.

It was at that moment Paul decided to make his grand entrance. Towel drying his hair and shirtless, he made his way toward us. Dana’s eyes widened, and her ears turned red. She hated that feature; her red ears always gave away her crushes.

“What are you guys looking at?” he inquired curiously, before glancing inside his room. His mouth dropped open as he took in the scene. Strewn clothes, a knocked- over lamp, and his bed stripped of its sheets.

Oh, and his naked brother with only a pile of feathers protecting the innocence of our eyes.

“SPENCER!” he bellowed. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“My room is right next door to Mom and Dad’s! I couldn’t get it on with my parents on the other side of the wall!” Spencer argued defensively.

“So you decide to come into my room? I’m gonna have to burn that mattress, you horny bastard!”

“You should be thanking me! It’s the most action this room has seen in a long time!” Spencer huffed.

Paul’s left eye started twitching, a sign that he was a word away from exploding. Spencer must have noticed it too, because he stood, clutching the pillow against his crotch. Yeah, bro, that’s gonna save that last shred of dignity.

Spencer, turning his nose up at us, waddled down the hall, completely unaware that we were being flashed a full moon. I clapped my hands over my eyes to try to burn the image of my brother’s butt out of my mind. Oh man, it was going to take a
lot
of Alex Pettyfer posters to get rid of that image.

When the sound of Spencer’s bowlegged walk had faded, I lowered my hand. Dana was beaming. “I love your house,” she said dreamily.

She gestured to Paul, who had thrown a red shirt on and was muttering as he used a pair of hockey sticks to pick up the clothes on the floor. “Go talk to him. I’ll go wait in the car. My heart can’t take any more Robello home drama,” she remarked.

Giving me a final little push into the room, she skipped down the steps, not-so-subtly craning her head for more glimpses of Spencer.

“Uh, Paul?” I said, shifting on my feet. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He stopped his deranged muttering and turned to me. “Sure. What’s up?”

My shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean on Saturday. You didn’t know Asher was going to be there. You had every right to be overbearing.”

Paul walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I buried my nose in his shoulder, returning the hug. “It’s my fault for being such a jerk. You haven’t had a guy over in forever, I should be happy for you, not a complete dick-head. It just…took me off-guard.”

“It’s not like that! Asher and I are barely friends. Honestly, most of the time I want to whack him with the nearest heavy object, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”

Paul chuckled. “Right.”

“I’m serious!”

“I believe you,” he shrugged, releasing me. “Be careful, though. Asher Grayson has a reputation, and not everything is rumors. Don’t let him break your heart.”

“Why haven’t you bought them yet? I offered to get them and you said no,” Dana frowned at Jason, who squirmed guiltily. “The dance is only three weeks away.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault! Practice has been running late in soccer, and it slipped my mind. I’ll get them today, promise,” he replied with a winning smile.

Dana couldn’t resist. She melted, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Okay, call me when you get them.”

              Rolling my eyes, I gathered my books from my locker. “I’m going to head to third period. Remember: no necking in the hallways!” I said with mock- sternness, laughing when Dana stuck out her tongue.

              Language Arts was third period, and the class was a piece of cake. “Kevin”, or Mr. Montelone, was a hippy twenty-something who thought we should bond and call each other by our first names. He’d even tried to get us to sing “Kumbaya” once.

              I personally thought he was doped up on something most of the time, but that was just me.

Today’s class was no different. I slumped into my seat. We were placed in a large circle to facilitate group discussion, so I ended up awkwardly staring at the girl in front of me for a few minutes.

Mr. Montelone- excuse me,
Kevin
- breezed into the classroom a few seconds after the bell rang. “Welcome everyone! Happy Monday!”

We all looked at him with complete disgust at that last part. What kind of extraterrestrial enjoyed Mondays?

He rubbed his hands together. “We begin Romeo & Juliet this week! Now I know you all read it freshman year, but that was the abridged version. We will read the full play to fully revel in the genius of Shakespeare!”

              My brain turned into a Spanish soap opera, shouting “
WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?”
loudly. Was the universe seeking vengeance on me because I was spreading my knowledge of moon cheese which could forever change the world as we know it?

              No, no the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to force me to read that horrendous play a second time.

              “Comments, questions, ideas?” Mr. Montelone asked cheerfully.

              For the first time in a century, I raised my hand. “Ivy! A new voice!” he clapped his hands.

              “Why do we have to read Romeo & Juliet again? I don’t think it’s a play significant enough to warrant us having to read it twice in our high school careers,” I said, indignant.

              He perched on an empty desk and rested his chin in his palm. “Well, why don’t you think it’s sig+nificant enough? What constitutes significance to you?”

              The rest of the class had perked when I spoke, finally paying attention now that something interesting was actually happening. Refusing to let my fear of public attention get the better or me, I plowed on. “It’s not significant enough because, even if you agree with the content of the play-which for the record I don’t, it’s only one play that doesn’t teach us any life lessons. Something significant would leave us with meaning and understanding of a new concept we hadn’t even known before. The only thing Romeno & Juliet taught me is that hormonal teenagers will do anything for a good lay.”
 

A round of laughter met my last sentence, and I sat back. Mr. Montelone rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Interesting stipulation, Miss Robello. Let’s see if I can prove you wrong over the course of this unit, hmm?”

              The bell rang then, dismissing us before I could tell him that moon cheese would be sold in grocery stores if I ever appreciated Romeo & Juliet. Gathering my things, I haphazardly stacked my textbooks in my arms. My fourth period was too far away for me to stop by my locker, and I already slouched enough without sticking these bricks in my backpack.

              I maneuvered through the hallway carefully. The jingle signaling the last two minutes of passing period sent most of the remaining crowd rushing into their classrooms. Only a few more doors to go when-

             
SLAM!

              My books were knocked straight out of my hands and sent flying over the hall. Sighing, I straightened to find Klein sneering at me. “Watch your step, loser.”

              Kelsie, one of Brenda’s trusty sidekicks, materialized at his side. “Honey, leave the poor thing alone. Her life is already pathetic enough,” she simpered at his arm.

              A second later, another hand shot out and knocked
Klein’s
books to the floor. “Watch where you’re going, douchebag,” Dana snapped.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the cop’s daughter. How’s your daddy doing, Dana? Find another woman to whore around on him?” Kelsie asked vindictively, sugar oozing from her words.

Dana paled, and like with the cupcake incident in the lunch room, my protective side reared its head. I stepped up as Dana was gathering herself. “You don’t speak to her that way, you hear me?”

Kelsie laughed, putting her hands on her hips arrogantly. “Or what?”

              “Or we’ll just have to inform little Klein over here about last year’s incident, hmm?”

              We all looked up at the new voice that had spoken, and there was Asher, leaning against the lockers, scowling down at Kelsie. She quailed visibly, and Klein tensed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

              “What’s he talking about, Kelsie?” Klein demanded.

              “N-nothing, honey. Let’s just go,” she muttered, her head lowered. She had no problem messing with me and Dana because we were low on the totem pole, but Asher would crush her beneath his shoe.

              They hurried to class, tail tucked between their legs, and that’s when I realized how late I was to class. “Shoot!” I mumbled, dropping to the ground to gather my things.

              Dana helped me while Asher watched us with barely concealed amusement. “Oh no, it’s okay, we’ve got it,” Dana said sarcastically.

              He shrugged. “I figure my Good Samaritan role has been filled for the day. Now you two try to get to class in one piece, I’ve got some business to take care of.” With a mock-salute, he vanished down the hall. Damn, I’d wanted to ask what the ‘incident’ with Kelsie was. Knowing her, she’d stepped out on Klein or at least attempted to.

              Dana and I looked at each other. “That guy is trippy,” she noted, handing me the remainder of my textbooks. “He’s hot one second, and a freaking Arctic boulder the next.”

             
You have no idea.

              Shrugging, I bumped her shoulder in thanks. “What does it matter? Let’s just get to class before we’re officially truant.”

My fourth period teacher held me for a few minutes during lunch to scold me for my extreme tardiness, but he let me go after I apologized profusely and promised to bring him a box of Kleenex.

              Plopping into the bench across from Dana and Caleb, I stuffed a fry into my mouth. Caleb was on his phone once again, and Dana was poking the chicken on her plate with a fork.

              “Okay, I am 99.9 % sure that something inside this chicken just blinked at me,” she said in disgust.

              Caleb grinned. “It’s got the hots for you, Dana. C’mon, take a bite- hey,
ow!
” he protested when the fork landed in his cheek.

              They continued their bickering while I kept a mental tally of how many times Dana stabbed Caleb with her fork, until a commotion caught our attention. Students were streaming into the courtyard, leaving their food left untouched.

              “What’s going on?” Caleb wondered, pocketing his phone.

              “Let’s go find out,” Dana replied excitedly, gladly deserting her questionable food at the table. Caleb and I trudged behind her. I spotted a caramel drizzled brownie left alone on a table and accidentally tripped and stuffed it in my mouth.