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He points at Pierce. “You too?”
Pierce nods, and we leave the kitchen with a bagel and coffee apiece. We sit outside, leaning against the wall of the dining hall. The sun’s gone down, but there’s enough light to see our food.
“All these years,” he says, “and I didn’t know I could stand by the kitchen door and ask for food.”
“It’s called begging. You’ve never been poor,” I tell him as I tear an everything bagel with my teeth. “When’s the last time you ate outside?”
He puts on a high-society accent. “My cousin’s wedding in the Hamptons. She insisted on having it outside on the hottest day of the year. She’s a real cunt.”
I screw up my face. “You are not a gentleman if you can say that word in a sentence.”
“Like you’ve never heard that before,” he sips his coffee and winks.
“Not out of your princely mouth,” I sass back. “What’s the worst thing you ever called someone?”
“Whatever I said to you last week.” Pierce tries to keep a straight face. “When did you have your first drink?”
I have to think for a moment. “I had my first beer when I was eleven. We were at a picnic, and I thought the fizzy stuff in the red cups was soda. It tasted nasty, so I spat it out. How about you?”
Pierce chuckles. “My paternal grandmother used to mix whiskey into our milk so we’d shut up and go to sleep.” He watches me. “And your first cigarette?”
I laugh. “Nova and I scored a pack when a man left it behind on a park bench. We brought it to school. I think we were in the third grade. We were so fucking stupid; we smoked them under an open window and got caught. The teacher confiscated them and probably smoked them in her car later. Cheap bitch.”
Pierce laughs so hard he almost spills his coffee. For a moment, he watches me with a smile on his face and then sighs. “We wasted time being pissed at each other.”
“What about your first cigarette?” I ask him.
“It was a dare,” he tells me, “I started choking after a few puffs, and Wyatt called me a wuss. I gave it up, but the next time he called me a wuss, I punched him.” Pierce smiles at me. “I have bigger muscles.” He punctuates his self-promotion with a wink.
I sip my coffee as it cools down, enjoying the nuttiness of our conversation, but I know what he’s going to ask next. My foot taps against the ground in anticipation.
“So when was your first time?” Pierce lowers his voice, but Gary’s too busy to give a fuck about our conversation outside. He won’t leave that kitchen until he clocks out.
“Front or back?” I ask naughtily.
His eyes widen as if he can imagine it in his mind. “Both, but start with the front.”
I look away and focus on my cup by my knee. “It was with Bryce.”
Pierce tosses his half-eaten bagel away, and I watch it roll down the path while I brace myself for his reaction. “Did you say Bryce?”
I nod, smiling weakly.
“That son of a bitch.” Pierce frowns. “But you had had sex before him. You knew too much to be a virgin.”
“How do you know that?” I give him side-eye as I finish off my bagel. “I promised my mom I wouldn’t get pregnant, so my pussy was off-limits to dicks. I didn’t even trust a guy with a condom. They stealth—you know, slip them off without the girl knowing and go bareback.” I give him a questioning look, wondering if he’s ever done that trick. “But I did everything else.”
“Even anal?” Pierce stares at me as if he’s daring me to show him.
“Even anal,” I sip my coffee again, letting that visual linger in his mind. “But I’m not telling you about the first time. How about you? When did you become a man?”
Pierce looks away and doesn’t laugh. “I’m not saying, except it wasn’t with anyone at Stonehaven.” He looks at me. “She knew what she was doing. Years of practice.”
I shake my head. “I haven’t been alive long enough to have years of practice.”
“If you need practice…” The hopeful boy nudges my shoulder. “I’ll sacrifice my time to help you. You’re going to need to work off the tension while you sit out the rest of the season.”
I throw up my hands. “If you send me a dick pic, I swear.”
