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  arm.

  Corrigan sucked in his breath, but didn't move away from the touch. He was thoughtful and finally shook his head, "No can do, Shell. I love ya and all, but I know I'll be sleeping next to some fat guy named Pervy." He shuddered and said shortly, "Not going to happen."

  By unspoken agreement we turned towards the parking lot. We were outside the door when we heard a shout from behind us.

  Turning, we saw Logan at the end of the hallway. She waved with a smile on her face, but she didn't move to us.

  And Corrigan didn't move to her.

  I glanced at him, but he was looking towards the parking lot. He had a stoic expression on his face.

  When comprehension dawned, I punched him in the stomach.

  Corrigan didn't grimace, cringe, or laugh. He sighed and moved towards his car.

  "You're a dick," I declared.

  Corrigan rolled his eyes and muttered, "Get in the car."

  Inside, I said further, "No, I correct myself. They're the dicks."

  "She's not a dick," Corrigan said quickly, but seemed to stop whatever else he was about to add.

  I grinned now, "So you're the only one."

  "Come on." he whined and wheeled out of the parking lot.

  "Look, just—why do you have to bring them around?"

  Disbelief crossed his face and he asked, "What are you talking about?"

  "She knows about my parents. If you were going to drop her, why'd you bring her around in the first place?"

  He shrugged, but asked, "Why do you care? It's not like you're nice to any of them."

  I laughed, "I just laugh…at them. And have contempt for them."

  Corrigan grinned from the corner of his mouth. As he pulled into the mall's parking lot, I remarked, "You know, if you were with her to make Becky Lew not your girlfriend, you put her through hell."

  He glanced sharply at me, but didn't say anything.

  "I'm just saying…she put up with a lot. Me. And you know that Lew's making her life hell. Not to mention, Lew's mindless bubble-heads."

  Corrigan grinned and said, "Can we not talk about this? This is weird."

  That was true.

  "I'm a little off—parents and all," I relented.

  Corrigan glanced at me, closed his mouth, and then wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Instead of the usual squelching hug, it was a gentle touch.

  It was gone just as quick as it came.

  Corrigan coughed and said, after a brief hesitation, "Yeah...uh…how are you doing with that?"

  "Drunken orgies was the way to go." And I thought, for a moment, that the orgies had gone too far.

  "Sweet," Corrigan remarked suggestively. "That's what I thought."

  And we were back on familiar ground.

  "So tell me—how many times with the latest reject?"

  "Six." The answer was so quick, I was taken back a little.

  "Six?" I narrowed my eyes. "You've been waiting for that question, haven't you?"

  Corrigan didn't reply, but suddenly stopped, threw an arm over my shoulder and leapt onto my back.

  "Oh!" I exclaimed, but grabbed his legs just in time.

  We were the picture.

  Corrigan was known as the player with a temper while I was known for having my walls up against people. My second shrink had told me that I set up multiple walls to close myself from others. People needed to break through the walls before they found me, but Corrigan and Bryce had never needed to break through the walls.

  I rather thought it was because of this—Corrigan had been jumping on my back since seventh grade. The abrupt piggy-back ride brought a delighted smile to my face. It had been too long. We'd become almost adults for too long.

  Corrigan pretended to swap my butt as he laughed in my ear, "Giddy-up, ho-bag."

  "You're the whore, playa," I retorted with no heat behind my words. Laughing, I arched my back and threw him off.

  He caught himself just before he would've fallen and managed to keep one leg around my waist. With my momentum, both of us fell on the cemented parking lot.

  Still laughing, I staggered to my feet while I turned and kicked him in the side.

  He howled, but lunged for my feet the next instant.

  Not wanting to fall on my back, I fell forward onto Corrigan's stomach.

  Corrigan caught me just before my elbow connected with his groin, but he flipped his body as a wrestler and had me pinned to the ground instantly.

  "Am I supposed to tap out?" I asked as I panted. I knew that I had a stupid grin on my face, but I didn't care at that instant.

  "Tap out, bitch." Corrigan growled, but giggled at the end. This made me giggle.

  We hadn't wrestled like this for years. This was the kid that I had befriended so many years ago. This was the real Corrigan behind all of his walls that I sometimes forgot were there.

  All of the sudden, I felt my throat choke and I blinked back some tears.

  I scrambled to my feet and started to walk away quickly. Horrified.

  "What—Sheldon!" Corrigan called after me as he jogged to catch up. When he saw my tears, he fell silent beside me.

  He looked away. I looked the other way.

  When we entered the mall's food court, Corrigan cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed.

  "What?" I asked forcibly, my voice hoarse.

  He looked away again. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought that he looked panicked.

  "What?" I said again and was grateful that my voice sounded more normal.

  He stuffed his hands inside his jeans, hunched his shoulders, and asked in a quiet voice, almost too quiet for me to catch, "Are you…I mean…never mind."

  "I'm good. Don't worry," I murmured quickly and bumped my shoulder to his.

  A grateful smile spread over his face and he bumped back. From there a short arm wrestling match ensued and it ended with Corrigan getting another piggy-back ride in the mall.

  We walked around for an hour. I modeled some lingerie to his wolf whistles. He tried on some flannel pants to my suggestive comments about the crotch-flap. Even though the modeling had started as a joke, Corrigan bought a pair of flannel pants because of 'easy access.'

  The clerk had given us both a knowing and slightly disapproving look, which Corrigan had loved.

  From there, he brought some smoothies and we ended our mall tour in the tattoo parlor. Corrigan already had two tattoos and was considering a dragon design for the back of his left leg.

  I briefly considered a tramp stamp, but decided against it. Even with all my hype, I wanted to get a tattoo when it meant something.

  We left the mall, stopped at a place for sub sandwiches, and headed to my house.

  Just as Corrigan turned into my driveway, we both heard a sudden pop and the car swerved. Corrigan cursed and slammed on the brakes. He was out of the car in the next instant and I followed to hear him cursing some more.

  He kicked a tire and spat out, "A flat."

  "How?" I asked and glanced at my driveway.

  My eyes found some spikes with steel-pointed edges that had been laid across my driveway.

  "What the hell?" I asked as I knelt for a closer look. They were attached to a cord. Each end had been clamped down by some steel rods that were used to secure tents into the ground.

  Just then we heard a squeal of tires and a truck roared past us. As they passed, the window opened and a brick was thrown at us. It smashed into Corrigan's back windshield. After it peeled around the corner and the engine sound faded, I didn't have to look at Corrigan. I already knew he was furious. When Corrigan was livid, he was silent. When he was pissed, he cursed, complained, and threatened.

  Corrigan was silent.

  "Do you know—" I managed out before he cut me off.

  "Yerling," He spat harshly and cursed savagely. "Yerling."

  He fell silent again.

  I sighed and pulled up the rods that had been stuck into the ground. I rolled up the cord with all the spikes and
stood there. Corrigan hadn't moved. His jaw clenched every now and then.

  We stood there for awhile before I started his car and moved it to the side.

  When I got back out, Corrigan must've clamped enough control over his fury because he opened his trunk and changed his tire. He threw his old one into the trunk and grabbed the keys from my hand. He peeled out of my driveway without a goodbye.

  Chapter 10

  I sighed as I walked towards my house. I already knew Corrigan would get revenge. He was the joker, the player, but he also had a temper and a penchant for ending up in jail. I figured I should make a trip to the bank, just in case I got another phone call asking for bail in the middle of the night.

  When I entered my house, I walked through the garage to make sure my cars were all fine and left untouched.

  They were.

  Yerling hadn't broken into my garage. If he had broken into my house, the alarm would've sounded and my phone would've rang with a police report.

  As I passed the front entrance into the kitchen, I noticed something on the ground.

  Another note.

  You didn't take the first note serious. It wasn't a warning. Adhere the grave circumstances if this note is thrown to the side as well.

  To the trash it went.

  I grabbed a can of soda and got into my car. The first stop was the bank, just in case. I withdrew two grand because I never knew what would happen with Corrigan. His bail had been a thousand one time and three hundred another time. Judging from his fury, I didn't think he would be content just trashing Yerling's car.

  When I pulled into the Café Diner's parking lot, I saw that Bryce's car was there. He sat at the same booth in the back section. Chet, Holster, and Evan Harris sat with him. Becky Lew sat at a different table, across from theirs. The guys seemed to be ignoring the girls, while the girls were pissed that their flirting wasn't getting them attention.

  Bryce's eyes found me and he nodded in greeting.

  Chet stood and moved beside Holster and Harris.

  I took his seat beside Bryce.

  "You talk to Corrigan within the last hour?" I asked.

  The guys quieted.

  Bryce frowned slightly and shook his head. He asked, "Should I have?"

  "Yerling put some tire slashes on my driveway. Corrigan lost a tire from it and his back windshield got smashed up. Yerling threw a brick as they drove off."

  Chet started laughing. The rest of the guys all mirrored his amusement.

  Bryce shook his head with a resigned look in his eyes. He murmured, "I should head to the bank."

  "Already did," I told him.

  Chet barked out a laugh at that. "Oh god. That's hilarious."

  Harris leaned forward and asked, delight in his eyes, "So Sheldon, are you really coming to my party? It's tomorrow night, you know."

  I cast a lazy eye over him and shrugged, "I'll try."

  Bryce wasn't listening.

  "What do you think he'll do?" I asked.

  "With him—who knows," Bryce muttered, frowning.

  "Didn't Corrigan light a shed on fire once because someone messed up his locker?" Chet asked.

  Bryce swore.

  "Imagine what he's going to do for his car getting messed up."

  I swore.

  "Yerling's going to the morgue if he keeps pissing off Corrigan," Holster remarked.

  The guys all had the same sudden wariness now.

  "Keeps pissing off Corrigan? What do you mean?" I was in the dark here. And I knew I didn't enjoy being in the dark, something else had happened.

  Chet frowned and glanced to Bryce.

  Holster and Harris both looked away. Sometimes I thought they were spineless, but then again—they were followers. I'd witnessed when those guys had waded through fire if Bryce, Chet, or Corrigan told them to. They weren't spineless, but wary at times. And they had reason to be.

  "What am I missing?" I looked at all four of them and ended with Bryce. He had been watching me with an emotion I couldn't name. A knot of dread suddenly took root in my stomach.

  Oh god.

  "What is going on?"

  "Uh…" Bryce started, but fell silent.

  Chet cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Uh…Yerling's been pushing the envelope lately. He's been…he's been—"

  "A psycho lately," Holster said flatly.

  Chet threw him a frown, but resumed, "Yeah, well, he's been off his rocker lately. Remember that day in here when he…"

  "I remember," I said dryly. I'd been there. I didn't need to remember when he'd made me scared—pansy.

  "Well…the truth is that Yerling had done something to another girl this past weekend. And—" Chet gave Bryce a beseeching look.

  Bryce coughed and finished, calmly, "Yerling hurt a girl at my party Friday night."

  "What?" I hadn't heard anything about that.

  "And on Sunday night, he made a few not-pretty comments about you—about what he'd like to do to you. We've been kinda watching him ever since then."

  "He knew the score!" Harris burst out. "You told him that if he hurt anyone else or even looked like he might hurt someone that you'd put him down. He's asked for what's coming to him."

  "He seemed fine on Monday and Tuesday. He was joking with Brent at lunch that day." This was from Chet.

  "I know. We saw him in the principal's office Tuesday. He was fine," Bryce remarked.

  "He said he'd gotten caught getting a blowjob," I said shortly. "He lied."

  "Or he was trying to make someone give him a blowjob," Holster mumbled without thinking what he'd just said. His eyes widened when he did and he glanced at Bryce.

  Bryce said slowly, "If that was the case…who was the girl?"

  "I haven't heard a thing," Chet remarked as he swallowed tightly.

  "Me neither," Evan parroted.

  "Right," I scoffed. "Because girls who are forced to do sexual acts really go around and proclaim it." I sent a scathing glance at