said.
Sage gave her another kiss for good measure then jetted out of the room. Nadine turned back to her cooking. She shook her head and ratcheted up the slicing and dicing.
Sage was fresh from the shower and in clean clothes. He started his homework, but couldn’t really focus. After a short time, he caved to his lack of attention and closed the book.
He went to the dresser drawer where he’d stashed Serenity's earring. He dug the box out and turned it over in his hands. Sage shook it, listening to the faint sound of the earring sliding around in the box, but he didn't open it. He just held on to it. Like an alcoholic clutching a forbidden bottle.
When he climbed into bed he set the box on his stomach. He watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. The motion of it lulled him to sleep.
Chapter 12
Sage and Peyton held court over a plate of fries in the cafeteria. Sage was distant, distracted. He dug around in his backpack, furiously searching for something. It appeared to be something really important--because he steadily cursed under his breath. It was like the object was hiding on purpose, just to piss him off. After a few futile minutes he gave up looking and flung the bag to the floor.
Peyton took full advantage of his friend’s inattention. He doused their fries with a big splat of ketchup, betting that Sage’s distaste for the condiment's resemblance to blood would work in his favor. It worked. When Sage noticed the condition of the fries he slid the plate right into Peyton's greedy fingers.
"I should make you buy another order," Sage scolded.
"What?"
"What, my ass. You know what I'm talking about."
"Dang, man. Why are you so touchy? It’s just fries. You on the rag or something?"
Sage winced at the reference to periods. He was still sweating bullets over his reckless hook-up with Raven.
"Fool, what do you know about being on the rag?" Sage asked.
"More than you. I have a sister. Remember?"
Sage perked up, fixing a hawkish gaze on Peyton.
"Yeah...you do. Hey, you think I could ask her something?"
Peyton's forehead creased, his eyebrows knitted together.
"Something about what?" he asked.
"Periods," said Sage.
"Oh, hell naw! Why? What'd you do? Knock somebody up?" Peyton asked.
Sage flicked a ketchup packet at him. Hard. It caught Peyton in the chest.
"Man, shut up! I just need to ask her a question."
"Well, you better Google that shit. You are not talking to my sis about sex," said Peyton, swiping his hands together like he was more than done with that conversation.
"Aww, quit tripping, Pey. She's twenty, not ten. What's the big deal? And it's not about sex. It's about periods." Sage drew the syllables out, in a feeble attempt to mark the distinction.
"Close enough. Answer's still no," said Peyton.
"Whatever. Calm your ass down," huffed Sage.
He absentmindedly picked up a bloody looking French fry. He almost ate it until Peyton cleared his throat and stopped him.
"Hey, isn't that your girl?" asked Peyton. He tipped his chin up and glanced over Sage’s shoulder.
Sage dropped the fry like a hot potato. He wiped his hand on a napkin...turned around to look. It was Jasmin. Sage spun back toward Peyton.
"That's not my girl," Sage told him.
"But I thought you--"
"She's not my girl!"
Sage banged the table to emphasize his point. It was loud enough that a few heads turned to investigate the commotion.
Peyton’s mouth dropped open. WTF, he thought.
But Sage wasn’t done.
"You're stupid. You know that? Why do I even bother with you?" Sage growled. He pushed away from the table and stormed out of the room.
Peyton shook his head and threw his hands up in resignation, then he shrugged and tackled the rest of the fries.
“Hmmp…boy sure acts like he’s on the rag,” Peyton
Sage gave her another kiss for good measure then jetted out of the room. Nadine turned back to her cooking. She shook her head and ratcheted up the slicing and dicing.
Sage was fresh from the shower and in clean clothes. He started his homework, but couldn’t really focus. After a short time, he caved to his lack of attention and closed the book.
He went to the dresser drawer where he’d stashed Serenity's earring. He dug the box out and turned it over in his hands. Sage shook it, listening to the faint sound of the earring sliding around in the box, but he didn't open it. He just held on to it. Like an alcoholic clutching a forbidden bottle.
When he climbed into bed he set the box on his stomach. He watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. The motion of it lulled him to sleep.
Chapter 12
Sage and Peyton held court over a plate of fries in the cafeteria. Sage was distant, distracted. He dug around in his backpack, furiously searching for something. It appeared to be something really important--because he steadily cursed under his breath. It was like the object was hiding on purpose, just to piss him off. After a few futile minutes he gave up looking and flung the bag to the floor.
Peyton took full advantage of his friend’s inattention. He doused their fries with a big splat of ketchup, betting that Sage’s distaste for the condiment's resemblance to blood would work in his favor. It worked. When Sage noticed the condition of the fries he slid the plate right into Peyton's greedy fingers.
"I should make you buy another order," Sage scolded.
"What?"
"What, my ass. You know what I'm talking about."
"Dang, man. Why are you so touchy? It’s just fries. You on the rag or something?"
Sage winced at the reference to periods. He was still sweating bullets over his reckless hook-up with Raven.
"Fool, what do you know about being on the rag?" Sage asked.
"More than you. I have a sister. Remember?"
Sage perked up, fixing a hawkish gaze on Peyton.
"Yeah...you do. Hey, you think I could ask her something?"
Peyton's forehead creased, his eyebrows knitted together.
"Something about what?" he asked.
"Periods," said Sage.
"Oh, hell naw! Why? What'd you do? Knock somebody up?" Peyton asked.
Sage flicked a ketchup packet at him. Hard. It caught Peyton in the chest.
"Man, shut up! I just need to ask her a question."
"Well, you better Google that shit. You are not talking to my sis about sex," said Peyton, swiping his hands together like he was more than done with that conversation.
"Aww, quit tripping, Pey. She's twenty, not ten. What's the big deal? And it's not about sex. It's about periods." Sage drew the syllables out, in a feeble attempt to mark the distinction.
"Close enough. Answer's still no," said Peyton.
"Whatever. Calm your ass down," huffed Sage.
He absentmindedly picked up a bloody looking French fry. He almost ate it until Peyton cleared his throat and stopped him.
"Hey, isn't that your girl?" asked Peyton. He tipped his chin up and glanced over Sage’s shoulder.
Sage dropped the fry like a hot potato. He wiped his hand on a napkin...turned around to look. It was Jasmin. Sage spun back toward Peyton.
"That's not my girl," Sage told him.
"But I thought you--"
"She's not my girl!"
Sage banged the table to emphasize his point. It was loud enough that a few heads turned to investigate the commotion.
Peyton’s mouth dropped open. WTF, he thought.
But Sage wasn’t done.
"You're stupid. You know that? Why do I even bother with you?" Sage growled. He pushed away from the table and stormed out of the room.
Peyton shook his head and threw his hands up in resignation, then he shrugged and tackled the rest of the fries.
“Hmmp…boy sure acts like he’s on the rag,” Peyton
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