Mark
Selena crosses the room and opens the fridge before responding to my question.
"Lance is yes my father," she says, bending over.
James, chuckling and smiling in a sickly manner, stares at her as she does. Her shirt rides up in the back, revealing a fresh set of tats, and I do my best not to stare as James does.
"Got new tattoos, huh?" James asks.
Selena glares at him, grabbing a beer, "Perv. And yeah, I did."
She leans against the counter and I still try to force the thought of her being Lance's daughter out of my mind.
"You get special treatment, right, Sel?" I ask, studying her.
She shakes her head, "Nah, he treats me like he treats everyone. I get none of the profit."
She shrugs and I down the rest of my beer.
"Well that must suck..." I mutter, thinking about what I'd do if I were her.
She shrugs once more and doesn't say anything. James' eyes are still glued to her, particularly her lower backside, and I shake my head at him. Thought you were smarter than that, James. Staring at Sel... well, you'll either get beaten to death, or humiliated. Good luck, man.
"I'm nineteen, James," Selena reminds him, "How old are you again?"
"Twenty one," James replies, for once breaking his gaze to look her in the eyes.
"Exactly," Selena says.
Plopping at my side, she kicks her feet up on the coffee table and mocks James as he leaves. I flash a smile and shake my head at her, grabbing another beer without getting up and uncapping it.
"What should we do around here?" she asks, "I mean...we should take advantage of this..."
She takes a sip of her drink and I think, looking around.
"Kick back, live the good life... I don't know," I shrug, swigging my beer, "We could always trash the place, have our own personal party. Get drunk and all that sh*t. Stick it to him."
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