“February is next month,” Douglas said.
“Do you both think I can’t read a calendar? I know what month is next. Wait a minute, is this school-your-big-sis day?” I walked between them and headed to the entrance. “And what do you mean picnic?”
“Sis!” Dylan ran up and grabbed my arm.
I stopped. “What?”
“We need to talk to you.”
“About the picnic?” I asked. “Something that Maceo has put together no doubt?”
“Just be nice to him. You know what I mean?” Dylan wound his hips into a ridiculous circle. “No sex, but you know? Like this.” He wiggled his hips some more.
“Um, are you asking me to show Maceo that I can hula hoop?”
Dylan blew out a long breath. “No, just play the game.”
“What game?” I feigned stupidity.
“The game of love.” Dylan mimicked more hula hooping. “The brother is talking about a discount.”
Douglas patted Dylan on the back and gestured for him to take the invisible platform. “Maybe I can explain.”
Oh, Douglas will explain. Well, this will be interesting.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh this should be awesome, but I must warn you, Douglas. Dylan set the bar really low right now. Anything more than bad hip dancing will get you points, sure, but I’ll probably still ignore you.”
“Remember when you approached us about dancing for you?” Douglas asked.
“Of course.”
“You said, ‘Sometimes you have to dance a little to rest a lot.’”
Both of my brothers are dimwits.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, if I said that, then it was pretty stupid.”
“No.” Dylan nudged him away. “I think Crissy said something like ‘You’ll be naked now, but dressed for death one day.’”
And now we have a winner for the stupidity contest.
Douglas considered it for a minute and shook his head. “I doubt she said that. I think Chrissy gave us a metaphor for dancing.”
“No, it was all about nudity,” Dylan said.
“I think I’m going to ignore you both, find Maceo, tell him no picnic, and then continue with my day.” I walked away.
“No. No.” Dylan met my pace. “You can’t say no to the picnic. Go, be nice, smile, and change your shirt. I have tons of female clothes in my car that you can wear.”
I ceased walking. “Why do you have female clothing in your car?”
“Sometimes they forget a few items.”
“Like a shirt?”
“And other things.”
“Eeesh. I’m not wearing some club chick’s icky and all-sweated up shirt.”
“I don’t date club chicks.”
“Oh yes, you do. They always have the three W’s—weave, weed, and wine. Nothing else matters.”
Dylan held his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt by what you think of me.”
Now it was Douglas’s turn to get on my other side. “Chrissy? Come on. We can’t afford to not be nice to Maceo. He’s not even asking for sex. We made that clear from the beginning of our agreement.”
Agreement?
Dylan cursed under his breath. “Really, Douglas?”
I stopped in front of the door. “We made that clear? We?” I gestured to both of them. “As in you both made some agreement with Maceo to pimp me out?”
“Not exactly.” Douglas wiped more sweat from his forehead. At this rate, his shirt would be soaked at the collar.
“What happened?” I placed my hands on my hips. “And this is directed at Douglas.”
“He showed us the bill,” Douglas said. “It’s barely four thousand dollars. I checked online. Most jobs like this are well past thirty thousand.”
Dylan jumped in, “That’s when I was like, ‘Man, we need to see what’s up with this dude. He’s giving us a big discount for a reason.’”
“So we sat Maceo down and talked to him,” Douglas said.
“Maceo explained that he thinks you’re captivating and loves your business sense. He’s only charging us for the pipes. His company is doing the work for free,” Dylan said. “Now, I’m not in the game of pimping my own sister, but if one must pimp, saving over twenty thousand dollars is the moment to do it.”
Douglas bumped Dylan’s elbow. “We’re not pimping her. We’re just asking Chrissy to not be mean to him so that the bill remains the same.” Douglas turned to me. “I think if you just say from the beginning that there will be no sex no matter what we’re charged, then that’s fine. Men pay for things to get women. It’s the way of our world. Just be upfront and cordial.”
“But play nice.” Dylan wiggled his hips.
I almost slapped both of them. “This sounds like pimping to me.”
“Pimping involves sex,” Dylan countered. “We know you don’t have sex at all, so we wouldn’t ask.”
“I do have sex.” I flipped him my middle finger.
Dylan laughed. “We’re talking about having sex with other people, Chrissy.”
Douglas coughed, which meant he was trying to hold in his own laughter.
“I despise you both,” I said. “As far as your great idea to pimp me, I’ll be nice, but that’s it. And the bill I will discuss further with him. We can pay the regular amount.”