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I want to scream in her face.
Tell her I know about Brody. That I know about her sleeping with Finn’s brother for years. Tell her I know she’s a fucking criminal who screwed a high school kid. I want to tell her I was there that day. That I came home from practice early and found her choking on Brody’s…
I remember it all too well.
“Look, Brody, we… I… We can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Funny. You said that my entire sophomore year, and it didn’t stop us, did it?”
“I’m serious, I love my husband. We’re renewing our vows soon. You and me… it’s wrong, okay? You need to go back to college. Forget this ever happened.”
“Come on, Del. You know you don’t mean that. I’m in college now. You’re not my principal anymore. We’re good. Stop thinking so much.”
I still can’t stop seeing his hand pushing on the top of her head, her kneeling in front of him. I couldn’t look after that, but I heard everything.
The sound of his zipper.
The noises he made when she…
Hello, gag reflex, my old friend.
Then I ran like hell. I got back into my car and headed straight to Finn’s. Infuriated by the memory, I walk off. Pretend like my mom isn’t a colossal disappointment and I don’t live every day of my life lugging her sins around.
I waltz into the bathroom connected to my room and shut the door, filling my lungs with the biggest gust of air I can muster. It’s the lack of guilt in my mom’s eyes… the absence of remorse on her face when I asked her about Dad.
Either she’s completely deprived of a soul, or she thinks her son is a two-brain-cells dimwit.
Cleaning some pipes.
Can you believe this fucking asshole? How about I throw some laxatives into your coffee and clean your pipes, motherfucker? Sure did the trick on Brody. Finn said his big bro spent that whole weekend before he headed back to Duke shitting his organs out.
I straighten my arm out to yank the sliding shower doors open and flick the faucet on. Steam flocks to the ceiling, immersing the room in a thick fog, and I hook my thumbs inside the waistband of my sweats.
My phone pings with a text from the bedroom before I can strip out of my clothes, and I double back to my bed to grab it.
I half expected it to be Finn.
Or Brie, either asking me when we can fuck or threatening me—no in-between. She keeps saying she’ll find out if I’m seeing someone else. Same old Brie. I’m not too worried about it, though. Girl’s all talk.
Thankfully, the text on my screen isn’t from her.
It’s from Love.
I enlarge our conversation, my gaze thumbing through the messages she sent me last night after abandoning me with a massive boner mid-phone-sex.
Love: Hey, I’m so sorry I hung up on you.
Love: Remember when I said my mom constantly forgets that I exist? Well, she chose NOW to remember.
I didn’t answer her last night.
Mostly because my dick was so big from her pictures I thought it was going to break in half if I didn’t jerk off that very second. I always knew L was attractive. No chance in hell she would’ve made it to Theo’s party if she wasn’t, but that body…
The outline of her perfect tits, that cute stomach, the hint of a tattoo on her left shoulder. I couldn’t see what the tattoo was, though. Who am I kidding? It wasn’t exactly my main focus.
She knocked me on my ass.
The fact that I didn’t really see anything isn’t lost on me either. Her most revealing picture didn’t even qualify as a “nude,” for fuck’s sake. It was all underwear, little skin action.
