“You kids might want to straighten out who is bringing what,” my dad suggested. “That is, if you’ve only got two weeks to plan. If you want to discuss everything in the living room, I’ll clean up in here.”
That seemed like a good idea, mostly because cleaning the kitchen sucked. So we all gradually moved into the living room. Carson and Ryan helped my dad clear the table. I went upstairs to get The Camping List. It was the same list we’d been using since the year we all turned sixteen and could drive ourselves to the campsite. Every year, something new got added or crossed out or changed until it was as close to perfect as possible. I knew it was in my room somewhere.
“So, V.” My sister followed me upstairs and into my room. She shut the door behind her. “You want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I started digging around in my closet.
“Reese.”
“What about her?” The folder with The List was dark red. I was pretty sure I could see it on the top shelf. I grabbed for the corner.
“How you’re in love with her.”
“What?” As I yanked the folder, a couple of shoeboxes came with it and poured out half my childhood on my head: photographs, essays, third grade drawings, and letters from my grandma. “What did you say?” I asked again once everything hit the ground. I must have heard her wrong.
“Maybe love is a strong word.” She was way too observant. “You think she’s hot, gorgeous, sexy. You want to get into her pants. You’re having impure thoughts. Does that cover it?” Damn, my sister was annoying.
“Adriana.” I stepped out of the pile of papers and detritus so I could walk closer and place my hands on her shoulders and stare into her eyes. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Are you being cool or are you in that much denial?” She tilted her head to one side like she was actually curious.
“Neither. I hate Reese. I have hated her since—”
“Second grade. I know.” Ade pushed my hands off her shoulders. “But this…” She walked over to the pile of crap from my closet and started digging through it. After about a minute, she straightened with a photo in her hand. “This girl is easy to hate.” She gave me a photo from high school. It was the twins and me sitting by their pool. There she was, the chubby girl who broke my Gameboy in second grade, the one who buzzed half my head when I was asleep on our sixth grade overnight trip. That bitch who outed me in our freshman English class because I stole her girlfriend. “Now, not so easy.”
“She was a vindictive bitch then and, believe me, she hasn’t changed.” I tossed the picture back onto the floor.
“Vivian.” Her tone got my attention more than the use of my name. “That is debatable. Anyway, you’ve dated tons of girls who were half as attractive and twice as evil.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t see her that way.” She opened her mouth to protest. “No, we’re done.”
Chapter Four
Ryan and Reese’s place was fucking huge. They practically had their own wing. It was a whole new, sad level of McMansion. No joke. Their stepdad hated them and it was way mutual, so everyone kept to their sides. I let myself in and walked through the house trying to find them. A sort of common room was on the second floor of the twins’ side that housed every video game system known to man, a functional couch, and a TV that was bigger than me. Bedrooms branched off that. Mine and one other guest room faced the street. Ryan and Reese’s rooms faced west affording a crazy view of the Sacramento Valley. Not sexy, really, but at night with all the lights, it was kinda cool. I looked out the window when I couldn’t find them upstairs. They were out back. The backyard was in darkness except for the light coming from the pool that bathed everything in a sick blue-green glow. I changed into a pair of jeans that didn’t smell like a restaurant and went to join them.
“How was work?” Ryan called from his lounge chair. Reese was sitting in another one facing him. She was wearing little more than a couple scraps of material that, I supposed, doubled as a bathing suit.
“Same shit. Scoot,” I told Ryan. He moved forward so I could slide behind him. I stretched my legs out on either side. He reclined back against me so his head was planted in my stomach. That would have been fine if his long locks hadn’t been wet from the pool. But they were.
“Christopher’s out of town again.” The evil stepfather. Ryan stretched out a hand to the small table next to us. He grabbed his silver cigarette case and matching lighter. The case was lined with perfectly rolled joints. Carefully, he selected one and placed it between his lips.
“Where does he go on all those trips?” Christopher was only home about half the time. None of us knew what he did. The CIA wouldn’t have surprised us. Neither would the mob. They both shrugged.
“Who gives a fuck?” Ryan repeatedly flicked the lighter to no avail.
“Give me that.” I took the lighter and joint from him and lit it. After taking a slow hit, I held it to his mouth. His bottom lip brushed my thumb and the light scruff on his faced rubbed against my hand. When he was done puffing on the jay, I pulled it away.
“You guys are kind of creepy. You know that?” Reese broke her silence.
I took another hit and held it in as long as I could. Then I put the joint to Ryan’s lips again.
“We’re non-sexual soul mates,” Ryan informed her. He must have already smoked before I got there. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have told her that.
“What the hell does that mean?” She seemed disgusted.
“It means if Ryan were a woman, we would be destined for each other,” I said.
“It’s true.” Ryan tilted his head back to look at me. I could barely see the shine of his eyes through the dark curtain of his hair. He let out a big sigh. “Too bad I don’t have like a sister or something.”
“Yeah, like a super hot twin sister.” We started giggling. Reese did not look amused. The joint went out so I lit it again.
“Pretty much any woman as smitten with you as my brother is would do the job.” She mustered as much sympathy as possible. “But as soon as you start talking, your looks don’t really cut it.”
“Did you just say I was hot?” I pulled on the joint again, leaving a thin ash. Aiming for the ashtray on the table, I tapped it off.
“Yeah, sis. I think that was a compliment,” Ryan deadpanned. He leaned his head back again so I would let him take another hit. Obligingly, I placed it in his mouth upside down so my fingers were splayed across his chin. He held the smoke in his lungs before exhaling in a long stream of dark, dank vapor. “I’m gonna get some food.” He braced a hand on my thigh and pushed up, then sauntered into the house.
“Let me get some of that.” Reese sat up and stretched out her hand.
“No.” The joint was almost gone. “Get your own.”
“Come on. I don’t want a whole one, just a little.”
“There’s nothing left.” I held it up so she could see. “Probably only one more hit.”
“So give it to me.” She stood and towered over me. Her bikini bottoms were at my eye level.
“No.” I sucked on the jay until it was almost to my fingertips. The smoke burned my lungs, but I held it in.
“Shotgun it then.” I shook my head. Reese swung a leg over my lap and planted a knee on either side of me. She knew I’d have to exhale soon. I turned my head away. “Please.” When she knew I wasn’t giving in, she took my face in her hands and turned it toward hers. I tried to jerk my head away, but she twisted her fingers into my hair and held me still. Our lips were inches apart.
I wanted to ghost it. Hold it till there wasn’t anything left to shotgun. But it was the end of the joint and I was about half a second away from coughing. Totally not sexy. Or cool. So I exhaled. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Fuck you.” The smoke poured out as I spoke. I’d already lost. I blew the rest of the thick smoke into her mouth. She inhaled slowly, pressed her lips closed, and held her breath.
“Thank you.” Reese blew the smok
e out into my face. It was pungent and distinct, the way only good pot smells.
“You’re a bitch.”
“I know.” Her face was still next to mine.
“Now go away.” I tried to push her off one-handed. The joint was still in my other hand.
“No. You’re going to kill that”—she pointed at the roach—“and I want more.”
“No.”
“Fuck, Coop, just do it.”
I knew what she meant. That didn’t mean I had to interpret it that way. I tilted my hips up so they rubbed against her inner thighs.
“I’ll do it. Just tell me how you want it, babe.” I lifted the joint to my lips and inhaled from it again. This time it did burn my fingers. I tossed the roach into the ashtray.
“You know how I want it.” She dropped low and ground against my crotch. Automatically, I pressed into her. Her breasts brushed mine when she took a deep breath. The charm on her necklace rested against the skin exposed by my open shirt. The metal was warm.
I wanted to kiss her. I tried to think of my poor, broken, second grade Gameboy. I tried to think of freshman English class. No luck. I still wanted to kiss her. Before blowing out the smoke, I cupped a hand around her neck and pulled her closer. Our lips just barely brushed together, not exactly kissing, but on the verge. Then I exhaled. She took it in stride, staring straight into my eyes as she drank in the smoke.
Buddy Holly started playing over the outdoor speakers. My hand fell and Reese leaned back. She didn’t stop staring at me. Calmly, she dropped back onto her chaise lounge and just watched me.
“Pizza’s on the way,” Ryan announced as he shut the door and walked back over to us. He drew a lazy finger back and forth on the thin chain around his neck. Reese started doing the same thing. I don’t think either realized how often they did that simultaneously.
Their necklaces were really cool, a present from their mom when they were little. The matching St. Christopher charms that hung from them were just bigger than a nickel, but more oblong. Carissa had worn one too. Hers was slightly larger and less elaborate. I wanted one and I wasn’t even Catholic. Actually, the twins weren’t very Catholic either.
“Hey, man. I think your sister wants me,” I told Ryan without looking away from Reese. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, and I didn’t want to think too hard about it. All I knew was that I was so turned on it was painful. My underwear were wet, and I was sweating in weird places.
“Yep. I’m into teenage boys. All that charm and sex appeal.” Reese was still staring at me too.
“Great.” Ryan wasn’t even paying attention. “Does that mean you’ll stop fighting?”
“I doubt it,” I said.
“Oh, well. Wanna go swimming?” He was already stripping his shirt off.
“Sure. Let me go change into my suit.” I started to walk inside then turned back. “Sorry, buttercup, I didn’t even think. You okay with me swimming? I mean, if I’m half naked and all wet it might send you into a frenzy.”
“Don’t worry. I think I have the gag reflex under control this time.” Damn, why did she always have a response?
“Why don’t you guys just shut the fuck up and swim with me?” Ryan asked before diving in.
*
“Oh, did Reese tell you?”
“Tell me what?” It was nearly three in the morning, but we were still out by the pool. It had finally cooled down to seventy so Reese and I were wearing jeans and sweatshirts. Ryan, however, was oblivious to the temperature. He was still wearing damp board shorts and an equally damp towel.
“That we need an extra tent for next week,” he told me. Derek and I were in charge of most of the camping equipment. Ryan was handling the reservations and getting a keg, as usual. Carson and Reese were in charge of food, and Austin was getting the Jet Skis and a truck. Everyone had a job.
“Why do we need another tent?” I asked, all sleepy. “I thought we were doing the usual.” Gay and straight tents, or sometimes we called them the boy and girl tents. Ryan, Derek, and Carson had one; Reese, Austin, and I had one. There were many reasons for the sleeping arrangements, but it was mostly about cleanliness. The boys were dirty; we weren’t.
“I’m bringing a friend,” Reese said.
“A what?”
“A friend. I already asked everyone and they said it was cool.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
“Uh-oh.” Ryan stood. “I’m going inside. Let me know when you clean up the blood.” He let himself into the house.
“Sorry.” She didn’t look sorry. “But she is only coming here for a little while and I want to see her and I don’t want to miss camping. Plus, I want her to meet my friends.”
“Why doesn’t she just come the week after?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t. I was just wondering.” I tried to sound cool. I wasn’t even sure why I was irritated. “Who is she anyway?”
“I know her from school. Her name is Kerry.” The way Reese slightly smiled when she said the girl’s name tipped me off.
“So why can’t you and Kerry just share a tent with me and Aus?” If she wasn’t going to volunteer the information, I’d make her give it up. Mature.
“I don’t know. You figure it out.” Reese closed her eyes and leaned her head back like she was bored.
“She snores? Maybe she should have her own tent.”
“Stop acting like a child.”
“I’m not acting like a child.” I was. “You are. Just tell me why you need a separate tent.” She opened her eyes to glare at me. “Come on, tell me.”
“Because she’s my girlfriend. Happy?”
“Yes.” No. “Do you really think our camping trip is the best place for you to get laid?”
“Please spare me the lecture. I really don’t think you qualify as an authority on the most appropriate places to hook up.” Reese wasn’t even looking at me anymore. Instead, she began to peel the label off the water bottle she was holding.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you’re a fucking whore.” Her lips seemed to embrace each word like she was kissing them.
“Fuck you.”
“I’d rather not.” She made actual eye contact when she said it, then looked back at her water bottle.
“No, really. Where do you get off calling me a whore?” I knew she was just trying to piss me off. She knew it was working.
“I was just making an observation.” Reese flicked some moist paper onto the ground. “You fuck any girl who stands still long enough.” She shrugged. “That means you’re a fucking whore.”
“Babe, that means I’m a fuckin’ playa.” I stood and braced an arm on either side of her. “I’m a motherfuckin’ pimp.”
“Please, please, please, Cooper,” she grabbed my hands and begged. “Get over yourself.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
Yep, that was a constructive conversation.
*
“Cooper,” Ryan whined through the phone like a three-year-old. “I’m going crazy.”
“Why?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
“It’s been three days. Three days. You know how many times I’ve seen them?”
“I don’t know, six?”
“Twice. I mean, I met this Kerry girl and then they disappeared. For three days. Three days.” I was starting to get the point, three days.
“So what?” For all we knew, Reese and her girlfriend were playing board games. So I told him, “Maybe they’re in Reese’s room playing Scrabble. Or Monopoly. Reese loved that game when she was little.” We both knew that wasn’t what they were doing. Reese was known for marathon fucks. She could disappear with a girl for weeks at a time. I didn’t have that attention span.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m bored out of my mind.”
“So leave. You really don’t need to bring them food every day.” I knew that was exactly what he was doing. The twins we
re completely warped. Three times a day, Ryan would bring up food and put it outside Reese’s door. Maybe bring them a bottle of wine at night for good measure. It was so twisted.
“You’re right. I should leave. Plus, it’s super gross to know what they’re doing. I mean that’s my sister. Ewww.” The fact that he put any thought into the specifics of what was happening behind Reese’s door was also sick and wrong.
“All right. Enough. My dad is making dinner right now. Come over, eat, and we’ll go see the new James Bond movie. You can crash here.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”
Five minutes later, Ryan let himself in the front door. From my room, I could hear him wander into the kitchen, eat something, and get reprimanded by my dad. Then he meandered down the hall to the office and said hi to my mom. A few minutes after that, he started up the stairs, but only made it halfway down the hall before sticking his head into my sister’s room. He must have been really starved for human contact.
“Ryan,” I shouted from my room. “Stop annoying my family.”
“He’s not that annoying,” Ade called back. I heard the rumble of his voice and they both started laughing. A couple seconds later, Ryan finally walked into my room and shut the door behind him.
“Sorry, but I’m dying.”
“We should get an apartment. Down by school maybe,” I let him know. It was time. I was twenty years old and living at home. How sad.
“Yeah, just a couple little, tiny, insignificant problems.” Ryan collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “One…” He held up a finger so I could see. “You can barely make tuition even with your parents’ help.”
“So I’ll get another job.”
“Two…” A second finger joined the first. “That annoying legally binding agreement from my dear mother.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how to fix that.”
“You ever wonder if she knew what she was doing?” He propped himself up on his elbows to look at me. “I mean she wrote her will or whatever, right? But that document is so simple and so…” He snapped his fingers repeatedly.
Dirty Sex Page 4