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Jade (06:45)
Inside Daddy Savage’s boxers? Playing with his magic wand?
Dahl (06:45)
Get your mind out of the gutter, please. I’m in the Bronx getting some new keys for my house and guess who is working here?
Jade (06:46)
Channing Tatum!
Dahl (06:49)
Dude, you’re so lame at this game. No. The bouncer who got you in the cab that night we were caught.
Jade (06:50)
NO WAY! Sen
d me a pic. And give him my phone number.
Dahl (06:50)
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)
