Took her [Ms. Whitlock] long enough to grade it." He mumbles.True. "But it took us forever to turn it in. She didn't have to accept it was from, she didn't have to let us write it together and she didn't have to give us an A-plus, but she did.

Arms around my waist and Pigpen has me in the air.

The guys from the board are at a smaller bonfire near the tree line. They’re laughing. Talking shit. Enjoying the fact that they’ve tried to play with my life. Yelling. Loud shouts. It’s near me, but the chaos controlling me makes it incoherent.

But by the way Pigpen's eyes are flickering between that piece and me, I might have to stab him in the hand with a fork to get it. "It's mine." He whispers. "Go for it and you're going down."Despite my best intentions, I smile and his eyes shine with the win.

Pigpen's been tearing through the cabin, the yard, the clubhouse like a toddler on the warpath.

Jesus, you're a wet blanket." Pigpen walks up behind Eli and grins like he just escaped prison. "Why are you giving the girl hell for wanting to go to an army bar at midnight? It's not like she told you she was going to kick puppies." Pigpen winks at me. "You ready to roll? Or should I say hop?

Pigpen passes the pan of lasagna in Chevy's direction and he takes two squares for himself, the deposits the corner piece on my plate. I smirk at Pigpen and he scowls back at me.

I try to muscle my way past but Eli's right-hand man, Pigpen, plants himself in front of me like the towering sack of testosterone and annoyance he is.

Pigpen is in his late twenties and thinks he's all handsome with his blonde hair and big muscles. Because he was a Navy SEAL or Army Ranger or something outrageous like that, he also thinks he's awesome, but he doesn't impress.