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No. He works for Graham. Name’s Carter. He is probably shady as hell.
Jade (06:51)
He’s fifty shades of hot. That’s what he is. DO IT.
I look up from my phone when I hear Carter’s footsteps. The floorboards creak, alerting me of his arrival. He hands me a brown paper bag, not unlike the ones they use at McDonalds, and sniffs, tilting his chin toward it.
“Here you go, baby. I printed the instructions. But don’t open it until it gets to G, okay?”
Shady. Shady. Shady. My mind screams. Why can’t I open it? And why is it fucking sealed? He can call me baby, but not Dahl? How does that make any sense?
“Yes, fine, thank you,” I respond, turning around and scurrying toward my car. These men.
I’m stuck in a traffic jam from hell, it’s Friday evening and everyone’s driving back to New Jersey from New York and vice versa, and that gives me even more time to think. I’m going to turn eighteen at midnight tonight; less than six hours away. Graham is waiting for me to officially become an adult to take my virginity, I know that. I can’t blame him. Even if he trusts me, with his track record and previous arrests, he can’t risk someone else, my mom or Julio or even Jade, to snitch to the police about it. This means that there’s a very good chance I’m going to lose my virginity…tonight.
Originally, I wanted to have a little get-together with all the girls from the cheerleading squad at my house. Order some pizza, watch rom-coms and get drunk—Graham says it’s okay to drink at home.
But that was before I started making out with my stepfather and completely lost my line of thought. I am now more than happy that none of my plans had materialized. I can’t imagine having people over when all I want to do is wait for the clock to hit midnight and jump into bed with him.
As I near our house my heart thumps faster in my chest. My breathing becomes ragged and I get the feeling that something’s wrong. My house. It doesn’t look the same. When I round the corner of my well-lit street, passing lush freshly cut grass and giant mansions, I realize why. The lights are on everywhere. The front yard, the pool, everywhere. Lights in every shade and colors; blues and reds and pinks and greens. There’s music blasting from the pool, and “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses—yes, this ironic song, of all songs—is playing loudly. I hear laughing and screaming and the splash of the pool as people jump into it.
Shit. Jade.
I take out my phone from the center console and text my best friend quickly.
Dahl (08:35)
Really? A surprise party @ mine?
Jade (8:40)
Yasssss. Thank me l8r dude.
Dahl (8:40)
How about I’ll thank you never? I had plans. And besides, it’s hardly a surprise when you make enough noise to wake up people in Alaska.
Jade (08:41)
Drag your ass inside, party pooper. We’re throwing you a balls out party and you’re not even here.
Reluctantly, I unlatch the seating belt and open the door. I’m climb out of the car and make my way to the house on wobbly feet. I’m not dressed for the occasion, but this is not why my stomach is in knots right now. I know Graham is somewhere in there, and I know that Jade has spoken to him since she had no other way around throwing me this party without his help. Most of all, I am painfully aware to the fact he might’ve spilled the beans in my best friend’s ears. My step-dad-turned-lover is a control freak who wants to shout that shit from the mountaintop. Even though I’m excited and proud to have him as my lover, I still need to digest it all, to come to terms with what I’m doing, which is essentially me
ssing around with my mother’s husband.
No matter that he’s not really her husband.
And no matter the fact that she is acting like anything but my mom.
“Dahl! Oh, my, Dahl! Look at you! Happy 18th birthday!” Britney from calculus is launching herself at me like a missile from the double front door, throwing her arms around my neck. I hug her back, and soon, everybody from the cheerleading squad joins her. One of them forces a princess tiara onto my head. The house looks like something out of that show on TV about the spoiled sixteen-year-old brats who always get “surprised” with a car at the end. All the boys are on one side of the room scarfing down food, while all the girls jump around and sing off key. There are bodies everywhere. I don’t even know half of these people, I’m sure. There’s a giant Tiffany Blue three-tiered cake with a silver, glittery “D” topper with gift bags surrounding it. Is it my birthday or Taylor Swift’s?
I’m a victim of a pretty aggressive group hug, and all I can feel is other people’s hands and arms on my back and ass when something, don’t ask me what, makes me raise my head up to Graham’s office window that’s overlooking the front yard. The minute my eyes land on his window, my eyes click with his. He’s standing by the glass, his chin up, his expression proud and dangerous, staring at me like a hawk ready to dive down and destroy his prey. I shiver from the intensity. Unlocking myself from my girlfriends’ hug, I smile apologetically at them.
“Who’s here?” I ask Jade.
“Who isn’t?” She snorts out a laugh. “Stepdaddy Hottest was kind enough to shell out 2k for this party. Word got out.” She opens her arms, as if to say “well what can you do?” “Long story short? Half the school’s here. You better run upstairs and wear something nice.”
I do just that. I shoulder my way through the crowd of very drunk high school kids, all seniors like me, though, pushing and laughing and dancing in my living room. Graham is a private person, so I bet giving Jade the green light to do this was a sacrifice for him. It makes me want to give him my virginity even more. Not because I care about this stupid party, but because he cares about me. And in my world…in my world it’s everything and more. I’ve never had this before.
