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Mom: TELL ME WHAT NOT TO WORRY ABOUT! Me: I’m having sex with Jake. Okay? There. You made me say it. It’s your own fault, and now we can never make eye contact again. Don’t tell Dad. Mom: Have fun at Bible study, sweetie.
Me: ??? Mom: Just kidding! I’m a cool mom. Condoms are fun. Make good choices!
I was so wet I worried about long-term damage to his mattress. It was like the rainy season in Costa Rica down there.
“You were made for me, baby,” he gritted out. “Don’t make this weird.” I gasped for breath. “You don’t make this weird,” he countered. “Stop talking.”
What was happening with my crotch? It felt like it was being hugged. I cracked my other eye open and looked down. “How the hell did I get in bicycle shorts?”
“Are those my bike shorts?” Ned asked.
“Your dad just walked in on us in bed together, and I’m wearing his bike shorts.”
Vicky had made a nest in clean laundry and had one of Marley’s bras wrapped around her head to block the light.
“If you could be more specific, I’d appreciate it. I just woke up in my girlfriend’s bed in her dad’s bike shorts.”
cleared my throat. “Mr. Cicero, about your shorts.” “Keep them,” he said. “And let’s never speak of this again.”
