REBEL, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) by Elle Casey Page A

one.”
    “So you say.”   I hold up the little container.   “Is this the right stuff?”
    “Yeah, but you need some drywall to patch in there.   That hole’s too big to just mud over.”
    “Mud over?”
    He lifts his chin in the direction of my spackle.   “That’s what you’re holding in your hand.   Mud.”
    I look at the label.   “I thought it was spackle.”
    “Same diff.   You got a knife?”
    “What are you going to do with a knife?”   I hope it’s not for stabbing me.   I’ll be really mad if he has come in here pretending to be a construction guy just so he can take me out with my one butter knife.   It’s not even sharp, so it’ll be a particularly painful death.
    “You need something to spread the mud with.”
    I walk over to the corner of the room and pick up the butter knife from my meager selection of utensils.   “Here’s one.”
    He laughs.   “Not that kinda knife.   A putty knife.   Just stay here.   I’ll be right back.”
    I’m still staring at the hole that needs mud and a knife when he returns.   He comes in and stops next to me, giving me a better look at him.   He’s probably about sixteen or seventeen, skinny as hell, with a light smattering of pimples on his cheeks.   I’m not sure he needs a razor yet, but I can see he’s used one.
    “This is a putty knife.   And here’s a hunk of drywall you can use to patch the hole.”
    “You have this stuff lying around in your apartment?”   I take the two items from him, inspecting them on all sides.
    “My dad does construction.   We always have junk lying around.”
    Walking up to the hole with the drywall chunk in front of me, I try and figure out how I’m going to get it to stay put.   “So I just lay this thing in here and mud the shit out of it, and that’ll fix it?”
    He speaks with the speed of a teenager.   “No. Make the hole a square, then cut out a square about two or three inches bigger on all four sides, then make a cut the same two or three inches in and pull the back paper and plaster off those outside strips, then lay the patch into the hole with the extra inches of paper all around the hole, and mud over it.”
    “Ass sphincter says what?”
    “What?”
    I about die when he falls for it.   He stares at me with a bemused expression as I grip my stomach, trying to control my laughter.   It’s possible I’ve blown a brain gasket and all the stress has caused me to lose my mind.
    “I’m sorry … I’m sorry …” I gasp out.   “I just … I have no fucking idea what you just said.”
    He grins, telling me he’s a good sport.   I already like him a ton.
    “Give me that.”   He takes the drywall hunk out of my hand along with the knife.   “Get me a ruler and a pencil and a beer.”
    “You’re not old enough for a beer,” I say as I dig through my backpack.   I threw all my office supply stuff inside it, so if there’s a ruler in this house, that’s where it’ll be.   I still have my five boxes to unpack, but until the residue is gone, I don’t want any of my things touching any surfaces in this place.
    “If I’m old enough to fix your wall for free, I’m old enough for a beer.”
    “Good point.   But I don’t have any beer.”   I look around my kitchenette.   “Shit, I don’t even have a fridge.”   How could I not notice before that I don’t have a fridge?
    “I’ll take a raincheck.   Ruler?”
    “I don’t think I have one.”
    “Okay, then we’ll just fudge it.”   He goes about using a pocket knife he pulls out of his pocket to turn my fist-shaped hole in the wall into a square hole in the wall.   He chats with me while he does his magic.
    “So, what’s your name? Where you from?   How old are you?   Are you married?   Got any kids?   Ever been to jail?”
    I laugh.   “You want the whole resumé, huh?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, my name is Teagan.   I’m from Silicon Valley but I go to school here in LA.   I’m almost