With one final slow, deep breath I tap on
the door.
"Yeah?" Rafe's voice calls out.
"Ummm, it's Madison. Can I come in?"
"Whatever."
I push open the door, and right away I'm
met by the smell of smoke coming the other way. Rafe sits on the
windowsill, one leg hanging out the window, with a cigarette
hanging from his lips as he lazily flips through the pages of a
dog-eared book.
"What?" he demands, the cigarette bobbing
up and down as he speaks.
I'm fucking enraged, my embarrassment
forgotten. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't
smoke in here!" I just can't believe he's lighting up in my house,
like that's a completely normal thing to do.
Rafe snorts. "Sure I can. It's my room,
right? Or do I need to put a glittery 'Prince Rafe' sign on the
door before I can do want I want in here?"
I cough. The smoke doesn't really bother
me, but I want to make a point. "Look, this is my house, and
there's no smoking in my house."
Rafe shakes his head with derision, blows a stream of smoke
through pursed lips and flicks his butt out the window, down to the
driveway. "Whatever you say,
your majesty.
Are there any other rules you'd like to
give me? No girls? No noise after 10PM? Do I have to provide my own
pair of My Little Pony panties, or will they be issued along with
my prison stripes?"
I flush pink with anger and embarrassment.
"You leave my fucking panties out of this!"
Rafe laughs as he rolls his Zippo lighter
along the leg of his jeans, striking a flame. "Wow, you have a
special pair of fucking panties? Maybe you're not as prudish as you
look."
"What?" It takes me a second to figure out
what he meant. "Oh, fuck you, Rafe."
"Sure thing. Just strip down to your cute
little fucking panties and I'll go find my boning boxers." He
reaches into his pocket, slips out a crumpled soft pack of
Marlboros and pulls out another. "Nah, I'm just kidding." He tugs
down the waist of his jeans to show me an expanse of naked, tanned,
muscular thigh. "I go commando. Smoke?"
I glare at him and speak slowly,
emphasizing each word. "I. Don't. Smoke." I'm mad as hell, but in
the back of my mind I can't help but imagine his cock just hanging
loose beneath those jeans.
Rafe smiles as he slips the cigarette
between his lips. "Good for you, doll. These things'll kill you."
He nods towards the door as he strikes the lighter again. "Now if
you wouldn't mind I'd like a little privacy. I'm really getting
into my book. Gotta see what happens to this hungry caterpillar,
y'know?"
I stand for a moment in the doorway,
glaring at Rafe as if daring him to light the cigarette. He just
flips the pages of his book calmly, striking and closing the
lighter, the Marlboro still hanging from his lips. Eventually he
glances up at my as if he'd forgotten I was there. "You can close
the door on your way out, sweet cheeks."
I'm too mad to speak. It's all I can do to
back out of the room and slam the door without every cell in my
body exploding with anger, and I only get madder when I hear Rafe's
cheerful, mocking voice on the other side. "There's a good
girl."
I stand silently in the hallway for a full
minute until my heart stops pounding, wondering all the while if
the world might not be a much better place if I was to storm back
in, stride across to the window and push that asshole out of it. I
just can't believe it. He's been in the house ten minutes, and
already he's made me so mad I want to scream.
Well, fuck him
. He might have the most beautiful eyes I've ever
seen, and maybe I
do
feel myself getting wet whenever I so much as think of him
looking in my direction, but he's nothing but a pain in the ass
thug. Mom was right about him, and the day he leaves the two of us
will throw a God damned party.
I just wish the stupid, Neanderthal part of
my brain would shut up and listen. I can't stand this asshole, so
why is it that that little Stone Age woman living in my head wants
him to drag me back to his cave and fuck me three ways 'til
Tuesday? How can I want to push him out a window and beg him to
tear off my panties at the same time?
Stupid, horny brain.
Penny's raucous laugh drowns out the sound
of the stereo for a moment, and a few dancers look around to see
what's going on. I blush at the attention, and sink deeper into the
sofa.
"Honey, you don't really wear My Little Pony panties,
right?
Please
tell me you're making that part up." Penny takes a sip from
her beer, dribbling it down her chin as she lets out an
involuntarily giggle.
I punch her on the shoulder. "Sshhhh! Not
so loud! It was my laundry day underwear, OK? They're just an old
pair of panties I've had for years. Let's not make a federal case
out of it. They're just panties. End of story."
Penny gives me a sidelong glance and lowers her voice.
"But... well, you're not wearing them
now,
are you?"
"No!" I reach down to my waist and pull out
a little pink lacy fabric with my thumb. "Look, regular non-weird
panties. Jesus, I'm not gonna come to a party in cartoon underwear.
What if I met a guy?"
Penny looks around the room at the dozens
of young guys dancing around us. "Honey, half these guys would
screw you if you were wearing your grampa's unwashed old jockeys.
The other half would get so turned on by a cute girl in a pair of
cartoon panties they'd come before they even touched you."
I cringe. "Ewww, that's so fucking gross,
Pen." I look around the room with distaste, trying to guess just
how many of the college freshmen in the room have a schoolgirl
fetish. "You're making me lose my girl boner."
Penny laughs. "What can I tell you, Mad?
Guys are all fucked up in the head, every last one of them. Still,
they're a lot of fun once you sort through the assholes and find a
good one."
I nudge her in the ribs and whisper. "Uh
oh. Brace yourself. Nightmare at 3 o'clock."
Penny looks confused until she turns and
spots the girl approaching the couch. Manda Sloane, the hostess of
the party, has us in her sights, and it looks like there's no
escape. The broad, slightly crazed grin on her face is explained by
the half empty bottle of tequila swinging loosely from her hand as
she weaves her way through the crowd.
"Ladies!" Manda yells, loud enough to carry
over the music. "What are you doing sittin' on the couch like a
couple of grandmas?"
I smile politely. "Oh, we're just taking a
break from the dance floor. Don't worry about us." I can't stand
Manda, but there's no getting around the fact that the girl throw
the best parties in town. Her dad owns this massive 10 bedroom
house, his job takes him to Stuttgart twice a month, and he's so
desperate to make sure his ex-wife is miserable that he'd put up
with anything to stop Manda from moving in with her mother,
including cleanup costs that often run into the thousands of
dollars after every epic rager. Everyone between the age of 17 and
25 for ten miles around knows about Manda's legendary house
parties, but only 1% of them ever get through the door. It's a
close run thing, but it's just about worth putting up with Manda's
grating personality to get into that 1%.
"No break. Drink!" Manda barks, holding out
the tequila with one hand and a plate of salt and lime with the
other.
Penny puts on a convincing fake smile. "Oh,
we've already had too much, Manda, but thanks anyway."
"No! Drink! Drink drink drink drink drink."
She spins around and drops herself on the sofa between the two of
us, forcing us both to hop out of the way to avoid her swiftly
approaching ass. "My party, my rules."
I catch Penny's eye, passing a silent message.
Let's just humor
her for a minute.
I shake a little salt out on the back of my hand, grab a
slice of lime and pass the plate across to Penny.
Manda takes a swig straight from the
bottle, swallows and winces. "Soooo, girls, what's the gossip? Lay
it on me, sisters."
I take the bottle, lick the salt and take a swig before
biting the lime.
Fuck, I hate tequila!
I can't stand this shit, but it's worth it to keep
from talking.
Penny steps in. "No gossip, Manda. It's
been pretty quiet lately."
Manda almost hops in her seat as she turns
to me. "Wait! Didn't I hear something about a deadbeat brother?"
She nods to herself. "Yeah, your dad has some kind of criminal son,
right?"
I don't know how Manda does it. Only a
couple of people know about Rafe, but somehow word has reached the
gossip queen of California.
"Ummm, yeah," I admit. "He arrived this
afternoon."
"That's, like,
soooo
fucking cool, Maddy! I always wanted a brother,
but then, y'know, dad's vasectomy, mom's affair, the divorce, yada
yada yada. Wasn't on the cards, I guess. So what's he like? I hear
he killed a guy."
I laugh. "What?! No! No, nothing like that. He just...
well, he stole a car. Well, I don't know if he
stole
it, stole it, but he took it for a
joyride."
Manda shakes her head in wonder. "That's just, like,
soooo
badass. Is he
hot?"
The question takes me by surprise. "What? I
don't know! I mean no! I don't care!"
Manda turns to Penny and flashes an evil
grin. "I knew it. He's hot. She likes him, right?"
Now that the conversation has turned to mocking me Penny
wants in on the action. "That's exactly what I said! She was
all
gross,
he's my brother,
but I can tell. She gets all googly eyed when she talks
about him. I swear she's been burning holes through all her panties
ever since she first saw his picture."
Manda jumps up in her seat again, bouncing
the sofa cushions and spilling tequila on the carpet. "Ooh! You
have a photo? Lemme see lemme see lemme see!"
I sigh. There's really no choice. Manda can
be dangerously fickle, and the slightest little thing could trigger
a grudge that would push me into the 99% who have their faces
pressed against the window of her parties. I pull out my phone and
scroll until I reach the photo I copied from Karl's cell.
"Here."
Manda stares at the picture for a moment,
trying to focus on the screen through bleary, tequila blurred eyes.
Eventually she turns to me with her mouth wide open. "This is your
brother? This guy? Are you fucking serious?"
I frown and shoot a confused glance at
Penny. "Ummm, yeah. Why?"
"He's called Rafe, right? Tell me I'm not
going crazy?"
I'm shocked. Manda's gossip network is
good, but how the fuck did she get his name? "Yeah, Rafe. How the
hell did you know that?"
Manda bursts out laughing. "I know because
this fucking hottie's in my den right now, surrounded by every girl
in the state fighting over who gets to fuck him."
"Rafe's here? Why? How?" I'm sure there
must be some mistake. Why would Rafe gatecrash a stranger's
party?
"Why?" Manda repeats. "I don't know, but
it's probably because I throw the most kickass parties. As for how,
I guess he just walked through the door. A guy who looks like that
wouldn't need an invitation to climb into my bed. He sure as hell
doesn't need one to walk into a party."
I can't explain why, but the idea that Rafe has come to my
party really pisses me off. With an attitude as bad as his he
doesn't deserve to have fun. He should be at home, sat at his
window smoking his cigarettes like a tool. He certainly shouldn't
be at a party, and especially not if he's getting the attention
of
my
friends.