They Hate Each Other by Amanda Woody EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: Amanda Woody
- Language: English
- Genre: Fairy Tales
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- Size: 2 MB
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DYLAN
Jonah Collins is dancing on my kitchen table, and I think . . . yes.
I think I’m about to lose my shit.
I’m impressed I’ve been holding it together so well. My house has been
infested with uninvited partygoers since the last homecoming song, and I’ve
been running around, scrubbing drink stains out of the carpet and picking
up after sloppy classmates. Hanna and I only invited a handful of people, so
why is half the class here? A thick, bulging vein has been pulsing in my
temple for two hours, dangerously close to detonating.
Then, I see him. On my furniture. Dancing to the beat of the music,
surrounded by his usual crowd of cheering onlookers.
I stop in my tracks. Inhale. Exhale. Find peace, Dylan.
Jonah is spilling his drink over the rim of his Solo cup. His homecoming
tie is wrapped around his forehead, and his pasty white face is flushed,
probably from the amount of alcohol he’s been looting from the drink table.
He pulls Andre up next to him, and they start grinding, and—
No.
I storm through the living room, squirming around people who are
hunched with hilarity because, haha, Jonah Collins is making an ass of
himself again, and everything he does makes us laugh, even when it’s not
really funny!
I wrestle my way to the inner part of the circle and glare up at them.
When Andre sees my expression, he squawks, scrambling down. “I’m
sorry!” he cries out. The edges of his dark brown forehead and low drop
fade sparkle with sweat, and he’s giving me puppy eyes. “Jo-Jo made me do
it!”
Andre’s sober. That’s the power Jonah wields over people—the natural
ability to make them sink to his level.
“Go find your girlfriend,” I snap at him, before turning my attention
back to Jonah. I wonder if she’s still ushering people away from the
staircase leading upstairs. Regardless, I need her, because Hanna is the only
person Jonah listens to.
“Go easy on him,” Andre pleads. “He’s wasted out of his mind—”
I shoot him another glare that makes him gulp and sends him skittering
into the throng behind us.
“Andre?” Jonah whirls around, apparently just now realizing his best
friend is no longer grinding up against his back. More liquid sloshes onto
the tablecloth, and it takes all my willpower not to wrench it out from under
him. “Where’d you . . . ?”
His sharp gray eyes fall to mine. Just like that, his distressed expression
flips, and his lip pulls into a grin.
“Oh,” he drawls. “It’s Prissy Prince himself!”
A hush falls over the crowd. As the focus in the room shifts to me, my
muscles tighten like springs. People always get quiet to watch a spectacle
between Jonah Collins and Dylan Ramírez. Even if it’s usually just Jonah
screaming obscene things while I resist flinging him through a window.
“Come to ruin the fun?” Jonah tips his cup into his mouth.
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