Page 15 of Wire
I take his hand. Rough calluses from probably years of hard work scrape across my much smaller palm. He squeezes my hand a moment before looking around the lounge. “Oh, chips”
He then sits where I had been sitting, grabs a bowl and pops a chip in his mouth.
“So, why are we looking at the outline of Rhodie’s dick in that spray on outfit?”
Chewy rolls her eyes before snuggling into her Pops “It’s Girls’ Night. I was showing the girls Rhodie’s PJs.”
“Well, it’s giving me heart palpitations. You better get that shit off the tv before I have a heart attack and die.”
A little snort escapes me, catching his attention. He gives me a wink and a smirk.
“So, girls, what are we doing?”
* * *
I don’t know how it happened, but I’m four drinks in and about three sheets to the wind.
Chewy is now sporting fingernails of every color. Ana painted my toes as bumblebees. The soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever is playing, and we are all staring at Pops as he performs John Travolta’s dance moves.
“You know, he’s actually rather good at that,” Ana mutters under her breath.
I nod at her. I can’t possibly look at her because my eyes won’t let me. Somehow, the old man’s hip movements have hypnotized me. Either that or it’s the wine. I take another sip and try hard not to sway.
I never knew I was such a lightweight. It’s a little embarrassing. I’m the daughter of the Death Riders’ VP. I feel like I should be way tougher. Which I voice, loudly.
“I need to get tougher. And cooler. And drink more so I can build a constitution.”
Chewy leans toward me, peering at me with only one eye open. “I feel like you need a bigger voice. Do you have a bigger voice in there?”
She pokes me in the chest, then moves her finger to the side slightly and pokes me again in the boob.
“You have a great rack, Remy.” Tuesday says, poking me again. “Ana, you have a great rack, too. But Remy’s feel different to yours. Poke them.”
Ana rolls her eyes before she leans over and pokes my other breast. She then frowns and pokes her own breast, then mineagain. “You’re right. They’re so firm! I bet her nipples point straight forward. Or up. Do your nips point up, Rem?” Ana’s head is tilted sideways, her eyes narrowed.
“Um, no, they point straight forward, I think.” I look down at my chest. I can’t say I’ve ever paid that much attention to them.
“Ugh. Lucky bitch. Mine point down. And are huge. Big hubcap nipples. Pointing down like sad dog noses.” Ana sadly shakes her head, swipes a bottle of wine off the table, flops back in her chair, and pours herself another glass.
“I’m sure they’re fine. I bet Gus likes them.” I offer. She’s such a nice lady, she shouldn’t be sad about her dog nose nipples.
A smile spreads across her face. “He may be titmatized by them. He stares at them a lot.”
“Listen, girls, when you’re with the right man, he will worship every inch of you because it belongs to the woman he loves.” Pops says in his rough voice before sitting himself down next to Chewy.
I think about his sage advice. I wonder if Mags thinks about me in any type of way? I know I think about him a lot. I wonder what it would be like to meet up? Would he think I was cute? Or would I be a letdown because he’s expecting someone else? Someone hotter?
“Who’s Mags?” Ana asks. Whoops, I must have said some of that out loud. I look up and everyone is staring at me. Well, not Chewy. She seems to be frowning at the window.
“Um, Mags is my childhood friend. My first non-related friend. We met gaming online when we were 13 and we message every day. Whenever I need advice or whatever, Mags is always there. Mags is my person, but we’ve never met in real life.” I shrug, then tip my glass up to avoid further scrutiny.
“That’s actually kinda sweet. But why would he think you were a letdown? You’re cool and totally hot.” Ana waves her hand in my direction.
My cheeks heat at her compliment. “I dont know. I’ve always just never felt cool or pretty or fun or whatever.” I shrug, then sway slightly, but catch myself before I completely roll out of the beanbag I’m sitting in.
“Hmmmmmm” Ana taps her chin, eyes narrowed at me. Both Chewy and Pops are quietly listening. From what I know of them, this conversation is not in their wheelhouse. “Maybe it’s the librarian thing. No offense, but librarian doesn’t really scream cool, hot, badass.” Ana points out.
I have no idea how she looks somewhat sober. She and Pops both. I’m sure they’ve had twice as many drinks as the rest of us. “I’m a Kiwi kid. We binge drink from the time we’re like, 12.” She shrugs. Whoops. She must have heard my inside thoughts.