Read Page 24

"Claire, you might want to keep it…"

"I told them about Max, Liz. MAX! The thing we swore to never speak of again. I told them all about him getting two thrusts in before his dad walked in on us," I said as I started walking backwards out of the foyer. "I can tell by that horrified look on your face that you realize how awesome this evening was for me."Advertisement

"Don't say any…"

"Why in the hell did you ever think I would be good at this?" I asked as I came to a stop in the living room. "By the end of the night, every woman in that room was giving my vagina sad looks. My vagina is going to get a complex Liz. It's already judging me because it's only gotten off with my hand. And I don't count dry humping your leg that one time we were really drunk after finals freshman year," I argued as Jim came up next to me with a bottle of Grape Three Olive vodka in his hand.

I glanced at him and then back to Liz.

"Why the hell are you staring at me like that?" I asked her. Her mouth was open and she kept looking behind me over my shoulder.

Oh f**k.

I looked at Jim and he gave me a reassuring smile and held the bottle of vodka out to me.

Oh f**king f**k.

"There's someone behind me, isn't there?" I whispered.

Liz just nodded her head. I swallowed thickly and blindly reached to my side to grab the bottle out of Jim’s hand. He already took the cap off for me so I brought it up to my lips and took and huge swig of it, my eyes watering as the burn of the alcohol slid down my throat and warmed my stomach. I slowly turned to face the music and die of humiliation. When I finally made it all the way around, the bottle of vodka slipped out of my grasp. Thank God for Jim’s quick reflexes. His hand shot out and grabbed the bottle before it crashed to the floor.

-- Advertisement --

pqdm.comads300x250--

"So, who wants another drink?" Liz asked cheerily from behind me.

8. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs

Orientation took a few hours. When we were done, Jim, Drew and I decided to stop for a drink before heading over to Jim’s house. We were sitting by the window at a tall table in a sports bar in the next town over. I really liked Jim. He was down-to-earth and friendly. He gave us a bunch of tips on places to go and things to do in this area. The conversation flowed easily and it felt like we had known this guy for years.

"I think I need to hear some more about Miss Cocoa Puffs," Jim said after he took a drink of his beer. I closed my eyes, wishing he forgot all about that comment Drew made back at the plant.

"I thought you'd never ask," Drew said with a smile as he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

"Oh, you are so not telling this story, ass**le," I said.

"Carter, I am the best possible person TO tell this story. I have an outside perspective on the situation and can give a better recollection of the events that took place that night. Plus, I've had to deal with your whiny ass for the past five years and your constant need to stop in chick stores and smell girly lotions. Maybe Jim can talk some sense into that brain of yours."

I could feel my face turning red and it wasn't because it was stuffy in here. I could not believe Drew was saying this shit. I would really need to evaluate his best friend status when this night was over. His membership card to the Carter Ellis Friendship Club was getting revoked. And yes, I realized I sounded like a complete douche just by thinking that.

"So, it goes like this," Drew began, completely ignoring the pissed-off looks I was throwing in his direction. "Five years ago, we crashed a frat party at your alma matter."

"Wait, so neither one of you went to school there?" Jim interrupted excitedly.

Try to contain your excitement at my humiliation, dick.

"Nope," Drew said, popping the 'p'. "Heard about it from a friend of a friend…you know how it goes. Anywho, we get to this party and little Carter here sees this girl across the room right when we get there. I swear to f**k you could almost hear "Dream Weaver" start playing and see stars circling his head. He stares at her for like a half hour before I finally tell him to quit being a pu**y and to go talk with her. She's got a hot friend so I'm all over that shit."

I rolled my eyes at his retelling of the story. As I recall, Drew made me take him to see a voodoo priestess he found in the yellow pages that week because he said the friend put a hex on his penis. For two weeks he slept with a two-pound package of boneless, skinless chicken br**sts on his junk since he refused to sacrifice a live chicken.

"So, he starts talking to her. They're doing some stupid movie-quoting shit that bored the f**k out of me, and I turned my charms onto her friend to pass the time. We totally hit it off and left those two losers to their geekiness. This girl was smokin' hot and had an ass that wouldn't quit. We found the closest empty bedroom and f**ked like rabbits all night."

Drew had a faraway look in his eyes like he was remembering every detail.

"That's funny, because you couldn't remember shit about her the next day except for the fact that she put a curse on your twigs and berries so they would shrivel up and fall off. All of a sudden you have perfect clarity? You woke up in the bathtub alone, dip shit," I said with a laugh.

"Hey, we're talking about you, not me. And I thought we agreed to never ever speak of the curse again. Her highness, Zelda Crimson-Grass stressed how important that was," he stated seriously.

"So, anyway, where was I?” Drew asked, after looking over each of his shoulders in case the great and powerful Zelda, who charged thirty-five dollars a minute and accepted Visa, Mastercard and traveler’s checks, was standing behind him holding a voodoo doll with pins stuck between its legs. “Carter wakes up the next morning freaking the f**k out because he thinks his dick is falling off." pqdm.com