Double Time
Published by Julie Prestsater
Copyright 2012 Julie Prestsater
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Dedication
To all my Twitter friends …
You make me laugh, send me words of encouragement,
and you’ve spread the word about the Double Threat books.
I’m so happy to have found people who love Meggie and Alex as much as I do.
Thank you a
kabillion
times!
One
“
Okay, chicas … it’s time,” Stephanie says, relaxing her shoulders with a big sigh.
“
Yes, it is,” I add, grasping her hand.
“
S-L-Y … single ladies year,” Keesha reminds us, as if we need reminding. She takes my other hand and here we are—all dressed up, all made up, checking ourselves out in the mirrors of my closet doors.
Steph looks comfortable in a plus-sized pair of skinny jeans, a fitted shirt. Her girls are
almost
spilling out—just enough to be sexy but not so much she looks like a skank. A cute pair of strappy sandals shows off her freshly painted toes. Long wavy curls flow to her waist and just a tad of makeup creates this beauty grinning before us. She’s ready. Definitely ready.
Keesh could wear a ratty old apron and she’d still look gorgeous. She too is wearing dark skinny jeans, but with a black ruffle lace tube top. A string of beads flows right down the center of her cleavage. She’s starting to look older…like a woman. Steph and I still have baby faces, but Keesh could be mistaken for her early twenties. Her skin is so smooth it looks airbrushed and her makeup is flawless. I’d have to spend all day with an extreme makeover team to get that look and I wouldn’t come close—and Keesh does it herself.
I’m just typical, little old me. Ha ha. Just kidding. I look smokin’. Okay, not really. Well, yeah, I look good. It was hard, but I kept the pounds off over the summer. Even when most of our adventures included going out to eat or drinking beer. Maybe it was all the horsing around in the pool that helped me out. Or maybe it was … oh, never mind. I don’t want to talk about Travis right now. He’s still a sore subject.
So, me? I’m workin’ the skinny jean thing too. Mine aren’t super tight or anything. Just enough to show off my shape, which finally isn’t a pear. And I really like my new top—long sleeve black mesh with a black cami underneath.
“
You look hot, Meggie,” Keesh says. With the three of us still holding hands, looking each other up and down, from head to toe, I respond, “Thanks. So do you guys. Now let’s go.”
My mom leaves us off at the mall. When Lydia gets off work from Express, she’s going to drop us off at the party. I’m missing the guys already. Well, Dominic and Ben. Without them, getting around is going to be difficult. I don’t see why we have to steer clear of Ben. It’s not like any of us have ever gone out with him. The girls think the one time we went to Wendy’s freshmen year counts as going out, so Ben’s in the no-fly zone too—the place where we have put all the ex-boyfriends, ex-friends with benefits, ex-crushes, etc. We’ve made a pact to not hook up with any of those foolios this year. It’s all about new guys, new experiences, and lots and lots of fun. But before we can get down to it … we need a ride.
Just one more year of needing a chauffeur. Next year, all three of us will have our licenses and be able to tote each other around. We took our driving class over the summer and got our permits. It really sucks none of us thought about getting all of this taken care of before we turned sixteen. Now we have to wait six months before we can get our actual licenses and another year before we can drive each other around—legally, I mean, but who follows that rule? By then, we’ll be eighteen so it doesn’t even matter. The boys, of course, could care less about obeying the law. Josh got his license during the summer, and he’s taking Travis to the party.
Last night, Josh asked us if we wanted a ride, but Trav cut him off and said, “No way…these chicks want to ditch us now, remember? So they’re on their own. If they want to go out, act like hoochies, and hook up with a bunch of dudes, let ‘em. But we’re not gonna help ‘em.”
“
Fair enough,” Josh agreed.
Boys. So difficult. They’re acting like babies just because we want to meet new people. Okay, I’d probably be pissed too if Travis told me he’d like to put things on hold for a while so he could explore other
options
. Wow. When I put it like that, it does sound mean. Now I get why he stares me down like he wants to punch me in the face. The glare never lasts long enough to make the intended impact on me … but I can see his frustration.
Lydia puts the car in park a few houses down from the party. No way do we want her to pull in the driveway to drop us off.
“
Do you have protection?” she asks, jokingly. At least, I think she's joking.
“
Ha ha,” Steph responds.
“
I'll text you later to tell you when I'm going to pick you guys up,” she says.
Steph flips up the seat so Keesh and I can get out, murmuring, “Sounds good,” to her sister.
“
Thanks, Lyd,” I tell her when I'm out.
“
Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” She laughs.
Keesh wags her brows up and down, “Well, I guess that means we can do just about anything.”
Steph chuckles. “Or anyone.”
I burst out laughing.
“
Real funny, bitches, find your own ride home,” she yells, as the window goes up. She pulls away from the curb and speeds down the street. Oops. I wonder if she’s serious. Knowing Lydia, it’s a definite possibility.
The shivers hit my body as we walk into Eric’s house. It’s a warm evening so it can’t be the weather. Since I’ve been here before—many times, in fact—you’d think I’d feel comfortable. But I don’t. I haven’t been here in over a year, not since we broke up. Not since I found out he was screwing my best friend. That was so long ago. While I’m still not talking to Amy, Eric and I have sort of patched things up. Enough for me to come to his party anyway.
Last year, my evil math teacher sent us to the office and Eric, Amy, and I had to go to counseling for Conflict Management. It was stupid. Amy still acted like she didn’t do anything wrong. Bitch. But Eric apologized, and I believed he was sincere. So here I am—in his house.
The festivities are in full swing. Same story, different time. It’s classic. I bet if I were to go back in time and hit a party my parents went to, it’d be the same old thing. Couples making out on the couch, a group of potheads smokin’ dope in the corner of the yard, football players doing keg stands to prove their manhood, and music blaring to the point you have to yell to be heard. I silently laugh to myself picturing my mom at a party getting down to some New Kids. I don’t even want to think about what my dad would have been listening to. He’s more of a classic rock guy—he was probably into mosh pits and crowd surfing.
“
What up, ladies. Glad you came,” Eric says, meeting up with us on our way outside. He hugs Keesh and Steph, and when he gets to me it’s more like a quick pat on my shoulder. I’m a little relieved he’s just as weirded out by this as I am. “The guys are here already. Over there,” he points out Josh and Travis, “if you’re looking for them.”
“
We’re not,” Keesh squeaks out. “We’re gonna get started with a little hip shaking though. Wanna dance?”
“
All right, why not.” Eric follows Keesh out to the patio where people have started to dance, and we trail behind.
The beats are really fast and loud. Before the song finishes, I start to work up a sweat. Steph and I are messing around when I recognize this guy from history last year. He’s cute. Tall, tan, and muscular…probably a water polo player. He’s sporting a longer faux hawk, kinda messy but definitely styled. He probably uses a flat iron, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all. He’s dancing with a bunch of girls so I bet he’s single.
Okay, maybe not. Bummer. Some chick just gave him a beer and splashed a sloppy wet kiss on his mouth. I say sloppy because I could see her tongue poking out before her lips hit his face. Poor guy. When he’s done with her, he can come my way and I’ll show him what a hot kiss feels like—one you don’t need a bib to recover from.
“
Did you see that?” Steph asks, nodding in their direction.
“
Gross,” I tell her.
“
What a waste … that guy is fine.” She cracks me up. She’s come a long way, making jokes and talking crap. I love it.
“
Tell me about it. I was checking him out. Thought he might be an
option
,” I say, hanging my air quotes.
“
You’d have to fight me for him. He’s too tall for you anyway.”
“
Everyone is too tall for me.” We both laugh.
“
Whatcha guys talking about?” Keesh says, joining our convo as Eric walks away.
“
Thought we had a hottie, but turns out he’s taken,” I explain.
“
No worries, there’s more where he came from,” Keesh says, looking on as his friends arrive and start doing fist bumps with our guy.
“
Water polo,” I mutter.
“
Huh?”
“
When I first saw hottie number one, I was thinking he had to be a water polo player with those shoulders and that tan. Look at his friends. Same build, same color …”
“
And they’re wearing water polo shirts,” Keesh finishes my sentence.
“
Guess we know what we’ll be doing after school.” Steph winks.
“
Any one of them, hopefully,” Keesh says, giggling.
“
Oh, oh, look at that one,” Steph says, excitedly. “He’s checking you out, Meggie.”
I try not to glance in their direction, but I can’t help it. Who cares if they know we’re looking? How else are they supposed to know we’re interested? Duh.
“
Ooo. He’s cute. Look at them lips.” Okay, maybe I have a mouth fetish. I love nice full lips, ones you just want to suck on. And he definitely has them.