CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The single user handicap bathroom at my elementary school had a broken lock on it. But one day I had to go really bad and didn’t think I wanted to make it all the way to the girls’ restroom, so I availed myself of what is nearest. I wasn’t done going when Bradley, a boy in the fifth grade I had a crush on, opened the bathroom door.
For days after, I dreaded going to school.
The church picnic was another source of my most embarrassing moments. Somehow the grape punch went down the wrong pipe and I started coughing—right onto Mrs. Johnson, the pastor’s wife, spewing purple all over her white linen dress.
Getting caught with my pants down, literally, with my underwear balled in my mouth is right up there.
Tony pulls me to my feet as if nothing could be more normal. My entire face is the color of a fire hydrant as I yank up my sweats and turn away to spit out my underwear.
“Just make sure you clean up any wet spots,” Eric snickers as he makes his way to the bar.
“I’m...” I mutter, but I don’t bother finishing the sentence. I turn and head out of the room with quick steps. I would rather be anywhere but here.
Back in my room, I flop face down on the bed and scream into the pillow. Given the late hour, I have nowhere to go. I’m stuck in a house up in the hills of Marin County. With at least two people I’m not thrilled to be hanging out with, and a third whom I am reconsidering whether or not I want to be with. Just because he makes my body go haywire doesn’t mean he’s worthwhile company.
I take a brief, hot shower, which helps to calm me down. I throw on my pajama shirt and new underwear. As I brush my teeth, I look about the room and see my textbook next to the bed. I shouldn’t be here. I should be at work and in class. I don’t have much with me, so packing back up wouldn’t take long at all.
“I warned you about me.”
Whipping around, I see Tony standing at my door. My shame turns to anger toward him. I stomp back into the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth. He follows me and leans against the doorframe.
“You can’t tell me you weren’t titillated by the prospect that we might get walked in on,” he says.
I spit toothpaste into the sink and reply, “I thought the chances of that happening weren’t so high.”
“Don’t take risks if you can’t accept the consequences.”
“You didn’t exactly give me a choice!”
I throw water in my mouth, then spit it out. I clean the toothbrush and try to walk past him, but he grabs my arm.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks.
I’m mad that Eric saw us, and since Tony started it, I am mad at him. I try to pull my arm away, but his grip is hard and tight about me.
“You didn’t specifically say that we were going to, you know, where people could see!” I say.
“You didn’t specifically complain.”
He makes a valid point. And maybe I was a little excited that we might get caught in the act. But that was before I realized just how embarrassed I would feel when it actually happened!
“What does it matter that Eric saw us?” Tony presses, still holding onto me. “We’re not paying you and Sierra to play patty-cake with us.”
My cheeks burn, and for some strange reason I’m a little hurt that he’s lumped us in the same category with Sierra and Eric.
“So he saw my cock inside your cunt,” Tony continues. “He’s a grown man.”
“And my underwear stuffed in my mouth!”
His gaze heats, his eyes turning molten. “And it’s the sexiest thing he’ll ever see.”
I flush. If he thinks he can make it all better with a compliment, he’s...partially right. When he looks at me like that, I can actually believe he means what he says.
But my indignation won’t disappear so easily.
I feel like my dignity is at stake even though I can reason to myself that it shouldn't matter what Eric saw. His imagination could probably conjure worse. And at least he wasn't taking pictures. After this is all over, our paths are unlikely to cross again. He's probably seen a lot more in his days. Who knows, in a few weeks he probably won't even remember. So why should I make such a big deal about it?