Culver:A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel(8)By: Meg Jackson
“But, like, there’s only so many saltines one locker can hold,” Becky said demurely, a mischievous grin on her face.
“And we keep telling her, like, yo, Samantha, girl, take those damn saltines out of your locker before it explodes! But, of course, Sammy never listens to her friends. Even when they are totally right. So, anyway, it’s almost April and Samantha’s locker is so full of saltines that she can’t even keep her books in it anymore, and she only opens it to throw more saltines in.
Until one day this dealer kid gets caught with a bunch of pills, and all the parents in town start freaking out about it, and they decide to do a full sweep of everyone’s locker to find out if anyone else is dealing on school grounds,” Alicia said, her eyes getting wider and her voice louder as she told the story.
“But, of course, they do it right in the middle of the day, with no warning!” Becky said, joining in with a giggle.
“So when they get to dear Samantha’s locker, you can just about see her pissing her pants, and there’s just this absolute deluge of saltines flying from everywhere. The principle, all the teachers, they’re all standing around while all these individually wrapped saltines just flow out of the locker, for like, a good minute and a half, just all making this huge messy pile on the floor. Finally, it slows to a trickle and everyone is just standing looking at Samantha and all these saltines, and…”
“And the principle turned to me and asked me ‘what on earth is this?’ and all I could think so say is ‘crackers’, but I say it really soft so he goes ‘what?’ and suddenly I just freak out and yell ‘CRACKERS’ right in the middle of the hallway and everyone just goes nuts,” I said, finishing the story with a bang. Boon was eating it up, a big grin on his face, his eyes locked on mine.
“But the best part of the story,” Becky said, leaning back, “is that the school administration decided that Samantha hadn’t broken any rules but that she definitely needed to be punished, so they made her head of the anti-drug poster project, making posters for the school hallways to discourage kids from doing drugs.”
“And let me guess…” Boon said, his eyes still on me, drink halfway to his oh-so-kissable lips.
“Why try crack when you can have crackers?”
“Don’t snack on crack!”
“Buy crackers, not crack.”
“Choose a saltier high.”
“Say yes to crackers, say nope to dope,” I said, finishing out the story with a hearty flourish. Becky, Alicia, and I were all in a fit now, almost crying from laughing so hard. Boon was laughing, too, though not quite as hard.
“Okay, okay, come on. Now, you’ve got to have some awesome high school stories,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and returning to my staring contest with Boon. His smile faded a bit and he took a long swallow from his drink.
“Nope, never went to high school,” he said, clearly feeling a little awkward.
“Oh, did you get your GED or home schooling or something?” Alicia asked cheerfully.
“Nah, school just wasn’t for me,” Boon said, breaking eye contact and looking out over the crowd.
“Didn’t your parents get upset?” Becky asked. I could tell she was getting pretty drunk; sober Becky is usually pretty tactful, and this was clearly a subject that Boon didn’t want to dwell on.
“Well, I guess you could say I just got drafted into the family business, so no. My dad didn’t even want me going. Said it would pollute my mind,” Boon said. “So, ladies, are you still looking for some, eh, party favors?”