Lennon's Jinx Read Online Free PDF Page A

stands just inside.
    “Your
mom’s male friend used the lamp to break his fall, which didn’t work out so
well for him or the lamp,” Nicky says, giving me the lowdown. After three years
of tending to Currie, she knows what to do and never tells her parents.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t let her come over.
    The
Raku lamp Currie picked out lies on the hardwood floor in several pieces.
    Nicky
points at the vomit. “He was so shit-faced—”
    “Language,”
I say.
    “Right.
Anyway, you don’t pay me enough to clean up that nasty stuff.”
    “Where
are they?”
    Nicky
laughs. “They retired to the bedroom. That’s what your mom said, as if I have
no clue what they’re doing.”
    “Currie?”
    “She
was sound asleep when I checked on her after Heather and friend passed out in
the boudoir .” Nicky pokes fun at what Mom calls her room of horrors.
    I
frown because Currie’s good at faking asleep. She texted me close to ten. It’s
more likely that she heard everything, and that sucks.
    “Here
you go.” I pay Nicky forty bucks for a little over two hours.
    “Unh,
unh,” she says, holding out her hand. “Extra for not getting sick myself after
watching creepers puke.”
    I
hand her another ten. This is why the babysitters love me. I pay the best rate
in our neighborhood.
    I
check on Currie before seeing the babysitter home. Harry is curled up on her
pillow, snoring. Startled, he jumps up and growls at me. I snort out a laugh at
the soup-bowl-sized dog. When Currie brought the hairball home, I wasn’t sure
what it was. He’s a black and brown rat’s nest of hair, even after a trip to
the groomer.
    Currie’s
chest rises and falls in an even tempo. I kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams,” I
whisper.
    Not
trusting Mom’s friend, I dead-bolt Currie’s bedroom that she can open from the
inside.
    “When
would you like me next?” Nicky asks, tapping my shoulder.
    “Probably
Friday night and Saturday day.” My band has two gigs this weekend, including
the wedding of the decade for Chicagoans.
    “Good.
I need the money.”
    On
the front porch, I stand outside in the cold and watch Nicky walk three houses
down from ours.
    When
I go back inside, I attend to the mess. At least the puke isn’t on the Persian
silk rug Currie made me buy, but it’s disgusting just the same. It pisses me off
that Mom expects me to clean up after her guests.
    I
pad to Mom’s room. A bare male ass straddles the bed. Her hand lies on his
back. I’ve had this discussion before, not to bring home guys unless she’s
serious about them and they aren’t musicians. It’s not like she listens. I
close the door, so Currie doesn’t have to walk past this lovely vision in the morning.
Unfortunately, she can never have sleepovers at our house because of Mom.
    I
stink of stale beer, so the shower in my room beckons me. I toss the sticky shirt
and jeans in the hamper while my mind wrestles with Jinx. What is it with her? Why
do I care what she thinks? Why was she so mad? Then it dawns on me—the burned
down candles, the photos, her dad’s guitars.
    I
press my hand to my forehead, feeling like a complete jerk. Stupid numb-nuts.
    The
den is a shrine to her dead dad. Major screw-up on my part, which I should be
used to by now, but the saddest part is I don’t want Jinx to hate me.

 
CHAPTER FOUR
LENNON
     
    The next morning, the tapping on
my face is so light it’s like a feather brushing my cheek.
    “Get
up,” Currie says. “You’re supposed to wake me up.”
    I
roll out of bed. “I’m up.” I tug on jeans over my boxers. No girl respects
briefs.
    “Nasty.
Dude, change your underwear.”
    My
hand shoos her away. “Okay. Get out.” It’s cute when she goes urban on me.
    I
do as Currie instructed me. After I put on clean boxers, jeans, and a Led
Zeppelin tee, one of the few things Jonathan ever bought me, I brush my teeth
and wash my face. I don’t shave because chicks dig stubble, and I’m lazy.
    Harry
noses his way into my room,