The Arrangement Anthology 1(75)

“I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this for you, but telling Black that you’ll do anything and everything is a bad plan. There are some sick bastards on her client list. They’re too twisted for me, so I know you aren’t going to be into it.

“Plus, checking the anything box gets you anything. You’re not ready for that—and no, you don’t want to know what crazy shit they do.”

I rub my eyes with the heel of my hands. “What choice do I have?” Mel doesn’t answer. I stop rubbing and look up at her.

“Go get the money back from dickwad. Say, ‘gimme my money back so I don’t have to be a hoe for free.’” I tilt my head to the side and give her an expression that says I’d rather die first. She puffs up. “Well, you realize what it means then, right? That you gave it him for free. If you let Sean keep that money, it’s like you fucked him for nothing, and in return he gave you the biggest mind-fuck of your life. Go get your damn money back.” Mel is on her feet. She goes to her closet and pulls out a jacket, and stuff hers arms in the sleeves.

“You are not going, so sit down.” When she bends over to find her sneakers, I repeat myself, “No. Mel, leave it. Please.” I walk up behind her. When Mel turns around, I feel the plea etched into my face. “Leave it alone.”

She’s mad. I can see the tremor of anger course through her arms. Mel flexes her fingers and lets out a rush of air. Her finger is in my face. She tries to hold it still, but she’s so angry. Even though I know she isn’t mad at me, it feels like it. She growls at me, “I swear to God, if I see that motherfucker on the street, I’m going to rip his goddamn face off.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “That’d be okay, probably.”

Mel snorts. The tension flows out of her back and her hand returns to her side. Mel shakes it off as fast as she can, but I can tell that she still wants to defend me. “I’ll give him a tattoo with that pretty carving knife I stole from naked dude.” She laughs. It sounds a little crazy, but I laugh, too.

I glance at the door. Her words from before finally sink in. “Did you say someone was in my room with Amber?”

“You know I did, and you don’t want to know who. I can’t believe it myself.” Mel peels off her jacket and throws it into the closet. It lands on the floor. Mel slips off her sneakers and slides the closet doors shut.

“Well, now I have to know.”

“No, you don’t. It’ll make you all sorts of crazy.” Mel doesn’t meet my gaze. Her eyebrows inch up her forehead and disappear, like she can’t believe it. I have a sinking feeling. She knows who it is and doesn’t like it. That’s why she doesn’t want to tell me.

There’s only one person we both like and we both thought he was gay. “No,” I gasp, with my eyes wide. My hand flies to my mouth as it sinks in. “She’s with Marty?”





CHAPTER 3



“Yeah,” Mel answers with a strange look on her face. One of her lower eyelids flutters, like she’s disgusted. “He’s been in there all night. Marty came up the stairs looking for you and stumbled on her.”

“How do you know?” I ask, and glance at the door and then back at Mel. “I thought you were going to be out all night.”

Mel shrugs. “Black reassigned me at the last second. I thought I was going to be out all night, too. When I got in, I texted M-boy to hang out. He said he was busy. So, after that I got nothing to do, right, so I figure that rattling the skank-hoe would be fun, so I go down and bang on her door.” Mel pauses and folds her arms over her chest. “Guess who answered?”

Shaking my head, I say, “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it—turns out that Marty-boy is straight, although doing Amber is kind of twisted.” Mel is obviously disgusted. Her opinion of Marty just fell about six feet.

I blink a few times. The thought of Amber and Marty is too much. I don’t want them together. I don’t really think about it, but I find myself on my feet and before I know it, I’m walking down the hall to my room. Mel is on my heels, telling me to think it through, but I don’t want to.

They can’t!

Stopping in front of my door, I try the knob. It’s locked. Odds are the door is blocked, too. I bang on the old wood so hard that the glittery sign Amber has placed above the door falls on my head and then tumbles to the carpet. I can’t believe how fast my anger is stoked. Maybe I’m too out of it to do this now, but I can’t stop.

Before I know it, I’m pounding the door like a lunatic and screaming, “Open the damn door, Marty! I know you’re in there!” I’m practically punching the door when Amber yanks it open.