Logan flushed, but didn't move her head back. She even relaxed her lips and Corrigan slipped his finger inside where, after a moment's hesitation, she sucked it. Her eyes looked somewhere else. Not at Corrigan, Bryce, or myself.
Bryce whistled in appreciation and asked, "Why don't you do that for me?" He held up his hand.
I punched him in the arm.
"Ow!" He cradled his arm, but smiled endearingly at me.
Corrigan sniffed the air and asked, "Please tell me that I'm smelling pizza?"
"You are." I knew my eyes were frosty as I watched Logan take
two of Corrigan's fingers into her mouth.
"Hey," Corrigan suddenly said as he noticed something in the front hallway. "You have a voice message on your machine." He looked at me, confused, "Since when do you use your machine?"
I'd been distracted with creepy notes. I hadn't noticed.
"When was the last time someone even called your landline?" Bryce asked.
Corrigan jumped off the counter and hit the play button.
A second later, I stiffened when I heard my mother's voice echo around the house's hallway and kitchen.
"Hello, dear. This is your mother. I am calling because your father and I are getting a divorce. I won't be returning home for Thanksgiving and I have no idea what your father is planning over the holiday. I'll be in touch with my new number. Love you, honey. Hope you stay out of trouble."
The air was thick in silence when the machine clicked it's end.
All three watched me, but I was paralyzed.
Finally, I choked out, "God."
Corrigan reached inside one of the beer cases and offered a bottle. Bryce took it, opened it, and moved it into my numb fingers.
I downed it.
Another beer came along and I downed that one.
A third proceeded the same until I spit it out and threw the bottle across the kitchen.
The buzzer rang on the oven, but I ignored it and walked upstairs. I passed my bed, headed straight for the bathroom, dropped my clothes, and stepped into my shower. I turned it to a scalding temperature and stood there, with my head hung downwards. After awhile, I slid down and wrapped my arms around my legs, hugging them to my chest.
I don't know how long I stayed there, but I stayed when I felt the first chill. I didn't move until my entire body trembled from the cold. And I wasn't too surprised to see that Bryce had taken root on my toilet seat when I climbed out. I wrapped a towel around my body and moved into my bedroom. After I closed the door, I just crawled into bed and pulled the covers over me.
Bryce stood beside the bed. He watched me.
After awhile he slid to sit on the floor beside my bed. He didn't watch me, but just stayed there.
I didn't cry. I didn't do anything.
"Do you want a beer?" Bryce asked sometime later.
"Yes."
"Okay." He stood up and returned a little later with four beers. He uncapped two and handed one to me. I sat up and downed it. I passed him the empty bottle as he held out the second. The third and fourth went down the same way.
After the fourth, I looked up and asked, "Is this a wrong coping mechanism?"
Bryce flashed a grin and my heart beat.
He leaned down and whispered, just before he touched his lips to mine, "Coping is coping, baby. Either way, you get through it."
I captured his lips in mine and found myself in his arms. I had one knee firmly between his legs on the bed and raised my body so I was kneeling above him.
"I don't want her in this house."
Bryce nodded and left. I heard the front door shut a few minutes later. With a tentative knock at my door, Corrigan called from the hallway, "Can I come in for a minute?"
I didn't answer and the door was pushed open.
I had laid back down, still wrapped in my towel, but I knew my face was void of emotion.
Corrigan's eyes skipped over the empty beer bottles.
"Hey," he murmured and moved to sit beside me. His hand came out to smooth down my hair, but I shoved it away.
"Sorry," Corrigan breathed, ruefully. He took a deep breath and commented, "So…drunk orgy is the way to go?"
Drunk orgy was the way to go.
He nodded and patted my shoulder. As he moved to the door he stopped short said, "If you want to go hustling, give me a call."
"I will," I murmured, hoarsely.
Corrigan threw me a tender smile and moved through the door.
I laid there and heard a murmur of voices from the front hallway. A second later, the door shut again. Another minute and Bryce appeared in the doorway. He had the case of beer underneath his arm.
A grin slipped past my lips at the image of him.
He grinned back and moved to sit on the side of the bed.
After setting the case on the floor, he asked, "You want another one?"
"Yes." I sat up and leaned against the headboard.
Bryce took two out. He handed one to me and downed his own.
I didn't down this one, but took some sips as I watched him stand up and empty his pockets. He placed his phone on the nightstand and then pulled his shirt over his head. He grabbed a handful of condoms and placed them on the nightstand before he sat back on the bed.
He met my gaze.
I took another sip and asked, "Do you think I'm a whore?"
He frowned, but asked, "How many guys have you slept with?"
"Three." I didn't hesitate.
"No," he answered and I knew it was the truth. He had thought about it.
I murmured, "Brian Kincaid. He was my first."
"Our first time was the end of freshman year."
"He was before that, long before that. He was my first boyfriend and I thought…I thought it was what I was supposed to do."
Bryce took a drink from another beer and rubbed a hand over my leg. It wasn't meant to be seductive, but soothing. Comfort.
"Nah," he murmured. "Girls don't have to do anything they don't want to do."
"I know that now." I hadn't then. I took a deep breath and finished my—I hadn't been counting—. Bryce took it out of my still numb fingers and placed it in the case.
"We've been friends for a long time," I said quietly and laid back down.
"Yep." Bryce nodded. "We became really good friends in…?"
"When we were ten."
"That's right. And in seventh grade, you kissed me."
"You kissed me."
"No." He shook his head and moved to lay beside me. He flipped on his stomach and threw one arm over my waist. His head rested on my shoulder and he gazed up at me.
"Yes. I remember because it was during recess."
"No." Bryce smiled at me, a beautiful sight. He inched closer. "It was during lunch, but you kissed me because you wouldn't let me go and play football with the rest of the guys. I wasn't happy with you at all. Why would I kiss you if I wanted to play football?"
I noted, "You're supposed to always say that you were the one who kissed me. That's what a gentleman does."
Bryce laughed a full laugh and teased, "You admit that I'm