Bad Romance

My parents think I'm a brat. Maybe I am, but in a few months, their opinions aren’t going to matter. I’ll be off at college, where I won’t be subject to their pointless rules and expectations. I’ll be able to wear what I want, when I want. It’s going to be heaven.

Staring at the red bikini on my bed, I think, fuck it. Why not start tonight? My family’s going to have to get used to the fact that I’m no longer their little girl. I’m a grown woman with the body to prove it.

The time for bossing me around is over.

Carefully, I fold my bikini as tightly as possible and slip it into the bottom of my beach bag. I pull on a yellow sundress over my one-piece, letting just enough of the blue show through so that my dad can see I’ve put on a different suit.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, as I walk into the kitchen to fill my water bottle.

My dad gives me a onceover and then nods approvingly. I fight back a smirk.

Dax grabs his keys and opens the garage door, and we follow him out to the car. We drive the four blocks to their friend John’s house, then walk around the side to the backyard where their buddies Eric and Mark are doing their best to razz each other in the pool.

“Hey, guys.” John waves to us from his spot in front of the grill. “Glad you could make it.”

“Glad to be here,” my dad says. “Thanks for letting Candace crash the party on such short notice.”

“Of course.” John smiles and hands me a soda. "The more the merrier."

Eric, my dad’s friend from college, climbs out of the pool and cracks open two beers, which he offers to my dad and Dax. “Good to see you, Dax. It’s been a hot minute.”

Dax takes a swallow of beer and nods.

Eric chucks me playfully under the chin. “You, too, Kiddo. Now it’s a real party.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “Nice

to see you, Eric.”

“Which one of you assholes is giving my drunk ass a ride home tonight?” Mark, dripping wet from the pool, claps my dad and Eric’s shoulders, his thousand-mega-watt grin lighting up the already sunny patio.

“Not me,” says Eric. “I’m crashing in John’s guest room.”

“What happened to your bike?” asks.

“Brakes went,” says Mark. “I’m bringing it in next week.”

“Glad to see you’re okay,” my dad says. “And yeah, sure, we can give you a ride home.”

Of course, my dad would offer to drive Mark home. As a doctor, he's cultivated a reputation of being the responsible member of the group. Mark's the fun one, Eric's the comic relief. John is somewhere in the middle, responsible enough to be reliable, but fun to have at a party—especially after a few drinks.

Dax has always stood along the periphery. Close enough to be in on their jokes, but far enough that they don’t really know what he’s thinking. None would admit it, but I think his stoicism makes them nervous.

“You guys are the best,” Mark says, obviously a little buzzed. He turns his gorgeous grin toward me. I flash him a flirty smile. Of all my dad's friends, Mark is my favorite. If my dad won't let me have something, like a drag off his cigar or a sip of his beer, Mark will usually find a way to indulge me.

One time, when I was babysitting at his house, after his kids had gone to bed, he caught me watching a video I found in his browsing history of a girl getting fucked by three guys. He wasn’t mad; more amused than anything. I begged him not to tell my parents, and like the cool guy that he is, he just smiled and tickled my neck and said it would be our little secret.

“Chips are on the table,” says John. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while, though, so feel free to take a dip.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” says Mark. He jumps back in the pool. Eric does the same. John checks the status of whatever deliciousness is sizzling away on the grill, then cracks open a cold one and takes his shirt off, too.

I’ve got to admit, for a bunch of middle-aged guys, they keep themselves in really great shape.

Mark swims up to the edge of the pool, then splashes me. I squeal. "You coming in, Candace, or do we have to drag you?"

Anticipation zips up my spine. "Sure, I just want to hit the restroom first."

"Bathroom's next to the laundry room now," says John. "Linda wanted a bigger pantry, so we had it moved last fall."