“Ohhhhh Cho-Cho. I’m not sure you’re ready for leveling up from fingers to… other things. But suffice it to say, there are a great many things you can stick in your ass to bring pleasure.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation, Mol.”
“That’s what I just said!” Molly grabbed the bottle of wine and topped up both their glasses. “We must fix that and drink.”
“We must.” Cleo agreed. Her phone flashed and vibrated on the table. Her mom was calling.
“Gonna answer that?”
“Nope.” She popped the ‘p.’ When her mom had finished calling, she opened their group chat.
Cleo: Hi Mom, can’t talk right now, doing some work in the library for my group project. I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow. Love you xx
“Cleo, you’ve changed. Ignoring Mamá Martinez’s calls, what’s next? Grand larceny?”
Cleo chuckled. While she’d lied about the ‘why,’ it felt good to make the decision that she didn’t want to talk to her mom. Obligation and pressure had weighed on her every time her phone rang, or chimed with a message.
It was stifling.
Ignoring the call had been like popping the top button on a tight collar around her neck. Molly was right, Cleo was an adult, and it was time to start laying some boundaries so she could learn to breathe and live in her own space – even if the idea alone was terrifying.
***
Cleo slid the lock of the restroom stall into place and pulled her pants down when the door to the bathroom smacked against the wall and footsteps rang out around the tiled room. If nothing else, the noise drowned out the sound of her peeing.
“Can you believe Linc is still with her?” Melissa had made eye contact as Cleo walked past to make her way into the bathroom. She’d turned her head to track Cleo’s movements and smiled as she’d pulled the bathroom door open. She knew Cleo was inside, which would explain why she wasn’t even attempting to speak quietly.
If the wind was blowing the right direction, people living in the next zip code would hear her shrill voice, echoing off the tiles.
Cleo’s heart hammered in her chest and a wave of dizziness crashed into her. She braced her palms on the walls to steady herself.
“That bland fucking marshmallow, Martinez! I gave him her number as a joke after we hooked up. I thought it would be hilarious to fuck with them. Getting him talking to her and watch him grow tired of her… her blah-ness. But here we are. For some reason, he’s still entertaining her. Probably out of pity.”
Cleo leaned forward on the toilet, scrunching an eye closed and straining to line her open eye with the gap around the door of the stall. Melissa stood, hand on popped hip, examining her nails. One of her friends was leaning over the sink, washing her hands, and the other was bent toward the mirror, rubbing the tip of her finger around the edges of her freshly glossed lips.
“Linc’s never been a player though.” Lip Gloss smacked her lips, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Or if he is, he’s been discrete. He doesn’t have a rep like some of the other jocks.”
Hand-Washer nodded and turned off the faucet. “He’s squeaky clean, Mel. Not the kind to be cruel or drop-drawers for a one night stand. At least, not that I’ve heard.”
Melissa’s eyes moved to Cleo’s stall door in the mirror, and Cleo recoiled, shoving a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp rattling in her throat. Did Melissa see her? She must’ve known Cleo was listening.
“He dropped them for me, didn’t he?”
Cleo’s pulse thundered in her ears.
“Just that once though… right?” Hand-washer finished drying her hands.
Melissa’s answer was to arch an eyebrow and tip her head with a smirk.
“Melissa! How many times? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Wow. Were you… like,dating? Why’s he with her if he was with you? Did he dump you? I have questions, Mel.”
Cleo’s hands trembled, tears pricked behind her closed eyelids, and she shook her head.
“Lincoln Scott didnotdump me.” She gave a triumphant grin before licking her lips. “Igot tired ofhim, and I gave him Hermione’s number for fun. She’s not his type at all, and he’d never go for a girl like her.”
“Except he did.” Lip Gloss pointed a finger at Mel, who was dragging a finger along the curve of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
