Free REBEL, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) by Elle Casey Page B

whores to your family.   I’ll totally punch you if you cry.”
    She slaps my hand away.   “I’m not crying.   I’m pissed.”
    I pinch her cheek before she can hit me again.   “No, you’re not.   You’re excited. See? I have a new apartment and I’m going to let you decorate it!”
    “You are?!”
    I grin really big.   “No!   I’m not!”
    She sticks her tongue out at me.   “You’re a poop.   You know I like to decorate.”
    “I know you like to spend money neither of us has.   I have exactly three posters I got off Lindey that you can hang.”
    “She has terrible taste.”
    “Maybe in clothes, but not in posters.   Come on.”   I pull into a parking space and shut off the engine. Leaving her to deal with Perry, I jog into the office.   A post-dated check for the rent gets me a key and a couple puffs of smoke to the face.
    “No parties,” the landlord says as I walk out the door.
    “Righty-oh,” I say, running back to my car in an effort to get the smoke stench out of my hair.   It wants to cling to me like it’s made of adhesive.
    “You stink,” Quin says, waving her hand in front of her face.
    “I know.   She smokes like a fiend in there.”
    “That’s illegal.”
    “Tell that to Large Marge.   Come on.   Help me carry up some boxes.   We can check it out together.”
    “What do you mean, check it out?” she asks, taking a box I’m holding out.   “Haven’t you already seen it?”
    “No.”
    Her mouth drops open.   “What?   Are you serious ?   You actually rented an apartment in Heroin Alley without even looking at it first?”
    “What’s up?” asks Perry, walking over with two suitcases in hand.   I still have my Burberry luggage for some reason.   I probably should have sold it for the money, but I can’t bring myself to do it yet.   Maybe next month when I need more mac-n-cheese than I can afford on my salary I’ll put them on Craigslist.
    Quin responds. “She hasn’t even seen the inside of the apartment yet.   She rented it sight unseen.”
    “That’s brave,” he says.   “Or incredibly stupid.   What number is it?”
    “Two-oh-four,” I say, holding up the key. It’s a very sad day when an asscar driver can legitimately call you incredibly stupid.   I hand my head in shame.
    He takes it from me and heads for the stairs.   “Can’t wait to see this,” he says, walking faster than we can keep up with.
    “You’re a complete nutbag, you know that?” Quin is mad.   “You’re probably going to catch a disease in there.   I’ll bet there’s shag carpet from nineteen seventy over rotten floors.”
    “Maybe it’ll be new carpet,” I say, feeling really stupid. Having more money than I could spend in my past life has apparently shrunk my brain down to the size of a walnut.   I’m making turkeys look like brain surgeons at this point. Good thing my dad is gone.   He’d probably disown me over this; he always accused me of not thinking when I made decisions.   I guess he was right about me after all.   Fuck me with two boxes of fuck.
    “Maybe it’ll have blood stains on it and gray matter chunks,” she says in a near-whisper.
    “Stop,” I say, but a part of me is thinking she could be right.   This place looks like a good location for an anonymous murder.   I wish I had some of that glowy blue stuff in my moving boxes so I could look for body fluids before putting things down on the floor.
    Perry’s laughter floats over the balcony.
    “Oh, good,” I say.   “That’s what a girl wants to hear when people walk into her apartment.”
    Perry comes out and looks over the railing.   “I hope you brought some Windex.”
    As soon as I’m in the doorway standing next to Quin, I realize that the local grocery store won’t have the amount of Windex I’m going to need to make this place habitable.
    “Holy Batman balls … that is … that is …”   Quin can’t finish her sentence, so I do it for her.
    “Heinous.