Charity covered her ears with both hands. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop it!"

"Never!" He went on, "Ass! Prick! Cum! Suck!"

She hurled her math book at him. It missed. "Shut up… Donnie… or I'll tell Dad!"

"What'd he do…? That old drunk! Fuck him!" Donnie roared. Then, "Where is he?"

"Out!" she said. "Out to get some more beer, I think!"

"That figures!"

"You get out, too… and leave me alone!"

"When I'm damned good and ready! I'll split when I feel like it!"

She was on her feet and stormed into her own room, slamming the door behind her and hurling a final word over her shoulder, "Foul mouth!"

Don laughed aloud. Christ! She was pretty when she's angry. He didn't know what had possessed him to taunt her, but he had enjoyed watching her as she had burned with anger, her expressive face mirroring her every emotion; in addition, the way she had twitched her hips, her tapering, white thighs showing under her miniskirt as she had flashed past him produced a pang of pure lust in him. Damn! What a beautiful chick his sister was! Man! She comes on strong! What a swinging chick she's going to be! Too bad she's my sister… all that nice cunt going to waste! Shit!

Going into his own room, behind the kitchen, he dug out the ten roaches he had bought that afternoon, extracted two and re-wrapped them, carefully, stowing them in his shirt pocket… just in case Marcy would want to burn one with him. The other eight hand-rolled cigarettes went back into their secret hiding place. He was ready to go. He went out the back door, walked around the house, climbed onto his big bike and kicked the engine into a full-throated roar.

He roared down the avenue, staying well within the speed limits. The last thing he wanted was for one of the local pigs to bust him for speeding. They might try to shake him down. If they did… they'd find the two marijuana cigarettes, for sure. Then, they'd have him for possession… and he'd wind up in Juvie… and that's the last place, man! The last!