Lennon's Jinx (2 page)

Rena
is Jinx’s other good friend and my math tutor.

“Don’t
mind Jinx,” Iz says, dragging me backward to the living room.

But
it does bug me. I don’t know why Jinx hates me.

Iz
and Gabby lead me to a room where a freshman girl scales the pole of popularity
by hooking up with Alex, a senior jock. He’s all beef, no brains, not that I’m
a rocket scientist by any stretch of the imagination.

Once
the senior figures out how to get through her cluttered fashion sense, she’ll
be the talk of the school tomorrow or a YouTube celebrity. Only seniors and a
handful of juniors were invited, so most of them are seventeen or eighteen.

Having
a little sister, I don’t like to see any girl taken advantage of.

“John
Lennon Tyler,” Alex says in a snarky tone.

I
hate being called John Lennon. I was named after the dead rock star while my
sister got Cherrie Currie from the Runaways. Original.

The
freshman sloshes her beer while playing suck-face with Alex. She’s toasted. He’ll
take advantage of the situation and spread rumors about her whether they’re
true or not. It’s definitely a double standard. If a guy hooks up with lots of
girls, he’s regarded as a conquering hero, but a girl can be donned a slut for pulling
a single one-nighter.

The
girl with Alex is too young to understand the consequences of her actions. Before
he has a chance to remove her clothes, I snatch the cup from her hand. “You
should go home.”

“Whaaat
are ya doin’?” She can barely talk. Her hand reaches for her cup but misses it
entirely.

“You
weren’t invited, frosh,” Iz says, knuckles pressed against her slender hips.
God, they’re nice and hard to ignore.

“I’m
with him.” The freshman eyes me up and down. “Unless Len waaants me.”

Steroid
head grins at Iz and Gabby. “I’ll trade any day.”

I
would never do a girl this young or this drunk.

“Not
in your lifetime,” Gabby says, throwing a couch pillow at him.

The
freshman gives Alex a weak shove. “Whaaat are ya sayin’?”

“You’re
out of here, jailbait,” Iz says, pointing at the door.

I
gently take the freshman by the arm. “Let’s go. Who did you come with?”

“Um.”
She wobbles while pressing her index finger to her temple. “Marcy? I think.”

“I’ll
get you guys a cab.” Thanks to Currie, I have them on speed dial.

“No,
you won’t,” Alex says, getting up from his seat. He pokes my chest hard.

I
am not a fighter and suck at it, but my shoulders are wider, and I’ve got at
least four inches on him. I just look intimidating. “You wouldn’t want to lose your
hockey scholarship, would you?” I steady the freshman with one arm. “By having
sex with an intoxicated minor.” Alex has already turned eighteen.

“Screw
you, John. You better watch your back.” He shoves past me and weaves through the
throng of partiers in search of his next victim.

Gabby
returns with a very unhappy sophomore. She’s been drinking as well. The girl
shakes off Gabby’s grip. “I can drive.”

“You’re
not driving,” I say.

“My
parents will kill me if I don’t come home with the car,” Marcy says.

She
should be happy she has parents who care whether she comes home or not. “I’m
sure your mom and dad would want you to arrive in one piece.”

Marcy
snatches her bag and coat by the front door. “I’m so dead.”

The
cabbie who brought me here isn’t too far away, so he returns quickly. I give Lou
enough money to get them to Marcy’s house, which isn’t too far. Marcy glares at
me while the freshman passes out on the seat.

After
they’re on their way, Iz removes my leather jacket, and Gabby pushes me down
onto a sofa. Both of them cross their legs over mine so that I’m trapped. Jinx’s
friends seem to like me—when they’re drunk—so why does Jinx hate me?

A
fellow partier passes out kamikaze shots. I take one and down it then follow
with a beer chaser. The blondes follow suit, making me even more nervous. My
savior Bailey better hurry. I fidget with the zipper on my jacket, ensuring it
doesn’t get too far away from me in case I need to bolt.

You’d
think with as many girls I’ve gone through, they wouldn’t scare me. But these
girls are different from pub girls. I have to face them every day at school,
and Jinx would send me into the next galaxy for hooking up with her plastered
friends. Other than Bailey, most girls get their feelings hurt. It didn’t take
me long to learn that lesson.

Iz
snakes her hand under the lip of my jeans. Gabby’s hand combs through my hair. They’re
both drunk, so it’s not like I can have sex with either of them and not have it
called rape later. One of the few things my dad Jonathan taught me.

Gabby
fishes out the thick silver chain from underneath my shirt. The heavy, steel key
at the end catches her interest. The small, brass skeleton key hides behind it.
“Is this the key to your heart?”

“If
I tell you what it’s for, I’d have to kill you,” I say, grinning. If I told her
the truth, I’d be expelled from school.

She
tongues the steel key, torturing me.

“I
love secrets,” she says.

“Good,
because I’m awesome at keeping them.” Other than my band mates, no one knows
about that key, not even Currie.

Gabby
finds the brass one. “Two. Very interesting. What’s this one?”

“It’s
nothing,” I say, putting them back. That key is nobody’s business, except mine.

Gabby
nudges me. “Touchy. Aren’t you?”

I
just smile at her. She has no idea.

The
blondes press against me. They’re both hot. I’d love to see them wrestle in a
tub filled with Jell-O, but if I did either of them, I’d have to endure their
tears and Jinx’s wrath. That doesn’t work out so well for me.

While
the girls try to weasel me out of my jeans, Bailey finally arrives.

There
is a God. Now, I can relax and have a good time.

She’s
the only person I feel comfortable with at school, probably because she nailed
me in junior high and would’ve been my first if the middle-aged brunch club
hadn’t gotten to me first. Bailey’s been a regular since. She also doesn’t try
to control me.

All
the girls at school hate her, and it’s obvious why. Bailey is five-ten with
stick thin legs, bottled blonde, sweet-sixteen designer boobs from her plastic surgeon
dad—ya gotta wonder about the dude—and lips Brad Pitt would love.

“Can
I speak to you?” Bailey asks.

She
has one of those sultry voices that melts like Haagen Dazs on my tongue.

“No,”
Iz says, jerking her hand from the inside of my jeans. I’ll miss her soft
fingers twirling the hair below my belly button.

Bailey
sighs. “Alone.”

“Excuse
me, ladies.” I rise, take my beer, and lace my hand in hers.

“Thank
you,” I whisper in her ear. With Bailey, satisfaction is guaranteed without the
noose of forever.

“Don’t
thank me yet.” From her breath, I’m guessing she’s been pouring straight pomegranate
vodka down her throat for the past hour. This can only mean she spent some of
that time arguing with her twenty-seven-year-old stepmom. Her home life sucks
but not as bad as mine.

As
we thread our way through the crowd, a guy says, “Lennon is the luckiest
bastard.”

I
grin. In some ways, I am. In other ways, I envy the simple life they lead, the
holidays they share. They have yet to change stinky diapers or feed a squawking
baby in the middle of the night when they have a test the next day, not that
I’m complaining. I love Currie.

“Head?”
The word dangles on Bailey’s tongue.

“The
magic word.” I am only human.

Bailey
leads me to the den and opens the door. I trip over a piece of cardboard at the
threshold before she takes me inside and closes the door.

Hundreds
of photos of Jinx’s dad are on the walls, the mantle, and end tables. Several
candles are burned down to nubs. That’s weird.

An
electric keyboard is propped against the wall. Vintage guitars rest in their
stands, a Les Paul, a six string Martin—a little too warm for my taste, but
it’s still an awesome guitar—two Guilds, an Airline Bobcat, a Gibson Sunburst,
and a not-so-rare Takamine, which has a sweet sound. I had no idea Jinx owned
such an impressive collection of guitars.

One
hundred percent distracted, I set my beer down and pick up the twelve-string
Guild. The jangle of this guitar blows me away. I whip through
Stairway to Heaven
,
which I hate to admit is one of Jonathan’s favorites.

Bailey
sinks into the sofa. “You’re so good. Why don’t you cut a CD with your boys?”

I
shrug because then I would be Jonathan Tyler, my absent dad, instead of myself.
I bring the guitar over to her and sing a song I wrote.

Bailey
interrupts me. “And you have that pull-off-my-panties voice. Put that thing
down.”

She
draws me into her and kisses me hard. Her soft, manicured hands shove my
shoulders against the sofa before she straddles me. She licks my lips then
slides down to that oh-so-sensitive area.

Bailey
is one of the few girls who almost gets me. She doesn’t judge me, and her
tongue can touch her nose and knot a cherry stem.

It
doesn’t take me long to settle into the couch. I’m ready to scream like a girl until
Jinx storms into the room.

“Didn’t
you see the sign to stay out?” Jinx yells. She picks up the cardboard from the
floor in front of the door and tosses it at us.

“Shoot,”
I say, catching it one-handed. That’s what I tripped on.

Bailey
stops what she’s doing. No. No. No.

When
Jinx steps into the room, I stuff the big guy back into my pants. This is all I
need—Jinx, the valedictorian, catching me with my pants down. I can imagine her
graduation speech now—Lennon Tyler will never amount to much unless he’s
between the sheets.

“You’re
such a pig.” Jinx looks away from me. She’s shaking so hard she’s her own
earthquake.

What’s
up with that? I was just getting a blowjob.

“It’s
no big deal.” I can’t believe I just said that to Miss Frigidaire.

Fury
spreads across Jinx’s face. That was a mistake—a huge mistake.

Jinx
picks up my beer and throws it on Bailey and me. Bailey swears and falls over backward.

I
jump up to shake the beer off. Jinx cowers and stumbles backward. I reach out
to keep her from falling. My hand snags her blouse. It rips—oh frig—before I
grab hold of her arm and stop her from tumbling backward.

Bailey
stands up, wiping herself off. She narrows her eyes at Jinx.

“I’m
so sorry, Jinx,” I say. “I’ll buy you a new shirt, two new shirts.”

Her
face puffs up like she’s going to explode into tears. Please not that.

Using
her arms, she covers the little bit of skin and bra that’s showing and folds
into herself as if ashamed of her body. I shuck off my button-down shirt,
because I always wear a tee shirt underneath to keep me warm in the winter, and
drape it around her shoulders. She closes it tight around her chest, looking
anywhere but at me.

“What
the hell?” Jinx grabs the Guild I was playing, resting against the hearth, and
gently stores it in its proper place. “How could you play one of my dad’s
guitars?” Her voice chokes on the words.

I
thought the collection was hers. That’s right. Her dad had an okay garage band.
But why is she upset with me? I didn’t hurt anything. Well, maybe her shirt,
but it would’ve been worse if Jinx fell and cracked her head on the stone hearth.

“Get
out.” Her words are strangled as she points in the direction of the door. “Both
of you.”

“I
have to wait on a cab,” I plead. “It’s freezing outside.”

“Out.
Out of my house.” Jinx stamps her tiny feet, which can only mean she’s so tight
it hurts.

What
am I thinking? She hates my guts and is terrified of me, which I don’t get. I’m
harmless, just ask any girl. Girls are the dangerous ones.

“It’s
too cold out there.” Not to mention I’m drenched in beer and I gave her my
shirt. Since it’s much warmer inside, I walk to the front door with Bailey and pull
out my cell.

“Absolutely
not,” Jinx cries. “You can call outside.”

I
call the cab anyway. It’s not like she can push me anywhere because I’m almost
six-four and supposedly still growing.

“Do
you need to go somewhere?” I ask Bailey.

“Your
house?” Bailey has been inviting herself to my place since she first screwed
me. It hasn’t happened yet.

“It’s
a school night.” I never get drunk on those nights because I take Currie to dance
and school every day, and she forces me to get up and go myself. With
graduation in sight, I’m almost free from the drudgery of learning. Me being
the good influence and all. My parents are both dropouts.

“But
I’ll drop you somewhere,” I say to Bailey.

“Okay.”
She grins big at me, letting me know she’ll finish what she started on the ride
home. Yippee for me.

Jinx
points a shaky finger outside. “Get out. Now.”

“See
you tomorrow in choir,” I say, holding out my hand to shake on it, not that I’m
looking forward to going. She’ll probably stab me with one of her over-the-knee
leather boot heels that look incredibly sexy on her.

Jinx
refuses my hand. I shrug on my leather coat, though it’s not warm enough to
stand outside in, but it’s better than nothing. Bailey wears a sensible faux
fur coat. I open the door and help her outside.

Why
is Jinx mad at me? I gave her my shirt. I said I was sorry, and I’ll buy her a
new one.

“Nice
seeing you again,” I say to Jinx on my way out. “If I freeze my balls off, I
know who to thank.”

“I
hope they do.” Jinx slams the door on us.

I
half-regret my closing comment while I stand shivering outside. The cold beer
plastered to my chest doesn’t help. Bailey snuggles up to me. For some reason,
I want to go back inside and figure out what the hell I did wrong. It’s not
like the party didn’t have sex before I got there. This is weird for me because
I normally don’t give a—I stop myself for Currie’s sake. I don’t want her
talking like Gutter Girl or Mom.