by Nia Arthurs
“Thank you.” Cece froze on the middle stair and did a little curtsy. “We’re heading to the Platypus Park tonight.”
“Oh really?” Mom’s tone of voice made me cringe. Sometimes, Cece was a little too candid with my parents.
“We’re just going to make an appearance and then come straight home, Mom. If that’s okay with you.”
“Fine.” Mom allowed. “But I don’t expect to hear that any one of you has been drinking. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said respectfully and then dragged Cece up the stairs before she admitted to her mom that she’d been invited by a guy.
Mom thought that all we, boys wanted from a girl was sex. Mom didn’t even trust me!
She’d forced Dad to give me “the talk” twice, once just for the heck of it and the second time to emphasize the importance of abstinence and marriage.
My parents were traditional but I didn’t resent that. I had Cece and she was all the drama that I needed.
I had seen what other guys at the all-boys school that I’d attended for four years went through with crazy ex-girlfriends. I shuddered at the thought of the horror stories.
“What are you wearing?” Cece catapulted herself on my bed like she usually did. I closed my bedroom door, making sure to leave it slightly ajar.
“I don’t know. Probably a shirt that doesn’t need ironing and jeans.” I shrugged.
She slid off the bed and slipped into my closet, sorting through the clothes hanging in there.
Mom constantly bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t given birth to girls. Both Adam and I were completely disinterested in the world of clothes and shopping. But Mom insisted on filling up our drawers with choices anyway.
“What do you think?” Cece broke into my reverie and held a long-sleeved white shirt up to her chest.
She pursed her lips and lowered her eyebrows. I snickered. My best friend was taking this party too seriously.
“I’m going to the park, not to a funeral.” I waved my hand dismissively and hopped unto the edge of the bed. “Next.”
She grinned and sent me a look before rummaging through the closet again. “Want a button-down or a polo?”
“Polo,” I replied. “It’s not worth the hassle of ironing.”
“Don’t be lazy,” Cece scolded with her head still in the closet. She selected a polo shirt and tossed it at me. “You’re welcome. Now go look nice.”
“Why?”
She blinked. “Why not?”
That was the extent of her argument.
“I don’t know why I love you.” I mused, walking to the bathroom to change.
“Because I’m awesome!” she called as I closed the door.
I shoved my sweaty T-shirt over my head (the store needed an air conditioning upgrade) and quickly slapped on some deodorant before donning the clean shirt.
After changing into fresh jeans, I walked back into the main room. Cece was lying down on the bed playing a game on my phone.
She was obsessed with the motorcycle racing app, but refused to delete any of her apps so she could install it on her own phone.
Cece’s cell was completely out of space thanks to the loads of pictures she’d uploaded on the memory card. I planned on getting her a 34 gigabyte chip for her birthday.
“Ugh!” she groaned when the game bested her again. “You’re lucky this phone is expensive or I’d stone it against the wall.”
“Please don’t.”
She grinned at my expression. “I was only kidding. Gosh, why are you so sensitive?”
I bent down to grab my shoes from beneath my bed. “I’m not. I’m just asking you not to destroy my only reason for living.”
She glanced dubiously at the smart phone in her hand. “What? This is your reason for living? I thought that was me?”
I laughed. “Somebody’s getting cocky.”
She rolled her eyes but a smirk played with her lips. “Come on. You take longer than I do to get ready, pretty boy.”
“Pretty boy?” I narrowed my eyes at her. That was new.
“Yeah, you’re face is so smooth and hairless. Like one of those K-drama pretty boys.”
I wasn’t sure that I liked hearing her say that, but I was certain that she meant well. “Well, don’t say that in front of anybody else. It’s degrading.”
“Degrading?” Cece smirked, but I ignored her and held my hand out so that I could help her off the bed.
“Come on.” I gestured. “Let’s go crash a party.”
She giggled as we sailed down the stairs. “We’re not crashing. We were invited.”
I shushed her. “I know. But crashing sounds cooler.”
We both waved at my parents before strolling down the quiet street to the park.
I lived in a residential area with no bars and only a handful of small stores.
The lampposts above illuminated our way in soft white and yellow glows. Big houses with flowers climbing up gates and overflowing over sidewalks and drains perfumed the night air.
Crickets chirped on either side of the nearly abandoned cement road. Only a few cars passed once in a while to prove that we weren’t the only two people on earth.
In a few minutes a park with a wide basketball court, bleachers, and a playground came into view.
We passed the park, crossing the street to the other side where fancy cars were parked near the Sea. Picnic benches that had been placed there by the area representative spread out every few feet.
Young adults lounged on the slats, with drinks in their hands. The girls sat in between male legs and underneath slung arms. Some couples were already making out. Mom would have a conniption.
“Oh my gosh,” Cece turned to me and squealed. “This is so exciting.”
I didn’t share her enthusiasm, but I figured that she had enough for the both of us. Someone moved in the shadows.
“Fancy seeing you here,” the girl from the store said as she drew near.
She smelled of liquor and perfume. It was a strange blend that was not altogether unpleasant.
“Hi.” I waved.
She glanced at Cece. “Oh no,” she pouted. “Is this your girlfriend?”
“No.” I said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. Cece sent me a strange look.
“I’m his best friend.” Cece offered her hand. “Who are you?”
“I’m Carla.” She waved a manicured hand to the party, ignoring Cece’s extended arm. “I invited your this cute guy out tonight. You wouldn’t mind if I steal him from you?”
“Actually-” Cece opened her mouth but Carla lurched forward and grabbed my arm. She dragged me away with the strength of ten men.
I glanced apologetically back at Cece. She covered her chest with her arms and stood dejectedly.
I was about to jerk my arm from Carla’s tight grasp when I saw a black guy swagger up to her. He was taller and more muscular now, but that bluster had not changed since we were little kids.
Shawn Anthony.
I lowered my brows, telepathically urging Cece to ignore him. She did the opposite, reaching up for a hug and wrapping her long, toned arms around the older guy. I huffed and focused on Carla.
“You want a drink?” she asked, putting her lips close to my ear.
For more look out for Cece & David in the Amazon store…