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I Can't Drive 55"Shit, not this kid again."
Lucas furrows his brow, examining his partner for a second before returning his attention to the speeding Cadillac.
"How has he not lost his license yet?" Quinn mutters under his breath as he starts up the sirens and hits the gas.
"Who is he?" Lucas asks.
"A regular," Quinn grumbles. "Aaron Magro. Nineteen, a sophomore at Iona. Studying to be a journalist," he spits the last word as if it's a curse. "Already acts like one, too: nosy and arrogant. Never shuts up."
Lucas raises his eyebrows. "Nineteen and he's already got a Cadillac?"
Quinn snorts a laugh. "Pretty sure Mommy and Daddy just give him whatever he wants."
The black Caddy has pulled over, flush against the side of the road. It's a CTS, he's pretty sure, but not the newest model. The previous one, maybe. A Cadillac's a Cadillac, though, so it must've cost 'Mommy and Daddy' quite a bit.
At least this felon is obedient, Lucas thinks. From the way Quinn keeps talking about him, he'd expected thi
Five Times Aaron Scared the Hell Out of Carson......And One Time he Didn't (Theme 65. Horror)
The dark haired man paces back and forth across the living room, pressing his phone against his ear with one hand and stuffing the other into his pocket. His brow is furrowed in frustration; Carson can't hear who he's talking to, but it's more than clear that they aren't cooperating.
"No, no," Aaron growls into the phone. "You aren't listening. It isn't my system; it's my friend's."
Carson watches silently from the couch, slouched over with his chin in his hands. His eyes are wide as he watches Aaron pace, and he wonders if anything could make Aaron blow up at him the same way he blows up at everyone else. He'd known that Aaron had the capacity to scare the hell out of people before he let him move in, but he hadn't known quite how obvious it could get in the most domestic situations. He's just lucky he seems to be safe from Aaron's hotheaded nature.
"Yes, my friend doesn't get all the channels promised," Aaron
67. Playing the MelodyAs he darted from rack to rack, pausing for split seconds to examine various articles of clothing, Aaron continued to babble. "It's so great to finally have a guy to go shopping with," he gushed. "I mean, girls are nice company and all, but they always assume things about guys that like clothes." He paused, brow furrowing. "Liking clothes doesn't make me gay, does it?"
Carson gritted his teeth as he fought to quell the rage beginning to take him over. "'Gay' means liking men, not clothes."
Aaron quirked an eyebrow, giving Carson a humorless smile. Aaron was the only person Carson had ever known who could say 'no shit, Sherlock' without even opening their mouth. "I know, but everyone seems to think gays have some sort of fixation on clothes."
"Not all of them do," Carson assured him in a grumble, hoping his meaning was clear. Aaron was a smart guy; he could pick up on hints.
Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, favoring his right shoulder as he always did, and returned to his oh-so p
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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