Chapter 46

On the dresser across the room, the clock read 4:30. Still too damn early.Stacy slipped out of bed. The floor was cool on his bare feet and he hitched his boxers up over his hips, hating the clammy feel of damp material against his skin. Snagging his pillow, he started for the door, then went back and grabbed the blanket, too. With his eyes accustomed to the night, he could see Lamar’s dark, nude body against the pale sheets and he wanted to scream his friend awake, jump on the bed and shout at the top of his lungs, scare the fucking bejesus out of him for what just happened.

What didjust happen? “You woke me up, dickweed,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. He’d spend the next hour and a half tossing on the couch and fall asleep during English or math—or worse, woodshop. He’d fall right out while Darian was talking, how would that look? Stacy kicked out at the bed and the mattress shook, but Lamar only sighed in his sleep. “Fuck you.”