"What do you think fake prostitution means?" Ryder asks, squinting at a picture on his phone.
"I don't know, but can I be the pimp?" Jax answers.
"Why?" Ryder questions.
"Because I wouldn't mind ordering you all around for a day."
"Something is seriously wrong with you man," I say.
"Oh I'm sorry did you want to be the pimp, Kyle?"
"Definitely not."
"Cool I'll dress you up in leather and put you on a street corner then."
"Good Lord. Ryder why did this even come up?" Ryder holds up his phone.
"It's on her list." Right, fake prostitution. I shake my head and bend down to look in the fridge for something to eat. I pull out a random box of take out and toss it into the microwave. When the timer beeps I have a fork ready to go. I shove a bite of pasta into my mouth even though is nine in the morning. Jax turns the television off.
"Okay I need to know what fake prostitution is. Let's go."
"Now?" I ask.
"Yes now. Have you got something better to do?"
"Eat?" I question.
"Is that pasta?" Dominic asks as he comes into the room.
"Yeah."
"Can I have some?" I scowl.
"No."
"We're going. Bash! Get your lazy butt out of bed and put some clothes on!" Jax orders.
"Five more minutes!" Bash screams from down the hall.
"No!" Jax calls. Ryder stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen. He grabs a glass and fills it with water to from the sink. Then he walks silently down the hall and a minute later Bash starts screaming profanities loud enough to get us a call to the cops. I shovel more pasta into my mouth, hoping to finish my breakfast before Jax forces us out the door.
I look down the hallway as Bash stumbles out of his room, followed by Ryder and the empty glass. Bash's hair is dripping as he moves into the bathroom. Ryder puts the glass in the sink and I finish off the pasta before throwing my fork in as well. I throw away the now empty take out box and look back to see Bash tug a dry shirt on over his wet hair. Jax grabs the keys to the car and opens the door.
"This better be worth it," Bash mutters as we all trudge down the stairs. We climb into the car and for once I score the front seat. The second Jax turns on the car I start fiddling with the radio, hoping to turn it to a rock station. But Jax slaps my hand away.
"Hey! Driver chooses the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!"
"Since when!"
"Since I heard that quote!"
"Oh come on," I groan. We drive all the way to Kayla's house listening to some crappy top forty station that I'm sure is only meant to annoy me. We park on the side of the road directly in front of the house and walk up to the door. Jax saunters up and presses the doorbell with more force and dignity than necessary. A beat later and the door swings open to reveal Kayla in skinny jeans and that cherry red tank top. My mind takes me straight to the image of her standing in the window in just a bra. I clear my throat in attempt to think of anything else as Kayla's eyes widen at us.
"H-hey what are you guys doing here?" She slowly edges the door almost closed, keeping only a sliver of space to fit her tiny body between the door and the frame. I raise an eyebrow at the action.
YOU ARE READING
Bad Boys
Teen Fiction{COMPLETED} Kyle was just Kyle. No last name, no family, no past. It was simple that way. Or at least it was easier than being Daniel, who cared too much to be anything but a coward. Kyle got decent cash from his side job, flunked classes on purpose...
