The Most OFFENSIVE Book Ever

1 | Oh, gross. Beggars

Sybil looked around to find herself alone. When she realized no one'd followed her, she turned on her high heels and clicked her way back to the small crowd of people gathered around the homeless man she'd stepped over.

"Do you think he's okay?" Tasha asked, a grim frown on her face.

"Nah. He's about dead now, I think."

Sybil finally pushed her way through and froze. "Gross," was her automatic response.

All eyes zeroed in on her and she looked from right to left. "Well, what is that dog, like twenty? It wasn't gonna last much longer. If—"

"That's enough." Tasha took her by the arm and dragged her away from the distressed homeless man cradling his now still pet. "What'd we stay about internal monologue?"

"Hold up," Luke called out. He crouched down and put ten dollars into the beggar's cup. It set off a chain reaction. Some ones, some coins, but everybody gave something.

Tasha, still with her fingers grasped firmly on Sybil's bicep, looked back.

Sybil watched the contrast Tasha's dark fingers made against her porcelain skin. "Do you mind?"

"What?" Tasha remembered her and let go. "Oh. Come on. Let's give something."

More people gathered now and Sybil, taking over-interest in the scenery all of a sudden, didn't venture too close. With their time so limited, she was less than pleased with wasting it here in the park when they had bigger plans ahead. Once everyone had given something, all eyes fell on Sybil who refused to return those gazes.

She didn't give to beggars. It was almost a family policy.

Tasha looked around their little group, self-conscious as always. She walked up to Sybil, teeth gritted as she said, "Just give a buck."

Eyes cast upward, Sybil flicked her brown hair back and wouldn't dignify it with an answer.

Hoving a sigh, Tasha dug into her own purse then pretended to receive the money. "Wow. Ten, that's so generous, Syb." She hurried back to put it into the cup.

The dead dog flinched.

Tasha and company returned, but Sybil watched that bum and his mangey mutt.

"I don't think that dog's really dead," she announced.

"What?" Tasha glanced back then nodded. "Right. We noticed, but it looked real sick."

Sybil met eyes with her. "But it's not dead, Natasha. It's not dead. That's a scam."

"Leave it. Come on."

Luke snorted under his breath. "I can't with this girl. Honestly."

"Babe, stop," Tasha told him. "Just give her a chance. She's...." she turned around but Sybil was already marching toward that fraud. "Syb!"

When Sybil finally closed the space between her and the beggar, she said, "Hey. How about getting up and finding work somewhere? Isn't there a farm or something with strawberries that need picking!"

A collective gasp broke out and Sybil looked around.

"What? There probably is. Right?"

Tasha practically slammed into her. "Sorry. Sorry. Forgive my friend; she's nuts."

"But he's a crook." Sybil yanked her arm free and said, "I'll show you."

She turned her heel on the mutt's tail and stomped.

Resurrected, the dog leapt up, yapping. It darted from the spot.

"See?" Sybil boasted. "It's not—"

Tires cried out and a car slammed into something flesh-based.