Christy returned and handed me a cup.
I drank it without looking and immediately regretted it. “What is it?” I wheezed.
“Whiskey. You should probably go a little slower.”
“Thanks for warning me.”
She tried to look innocent, but I knew better. She
She hung out with me at the door, and we greeted a steady trickle of people for at least half an hour. Their costumes ranged from simple to elaborate, with everything in between.
I was about to close the door when I spotted someone I’d been waiting for.
Andy and Jamie turned up the walk, along with three guys I vaguely remembered from the graduation party.
“Hey, you made it!” I invited them in and introduced them to Christy.
Jamie held her at arm’s length and then spun her around. “Well, aren’t you precious.”
Trip must’ve had a crystal ball when he made the current mix tape—Bow Wow Wow’s “I Want Candy” had just started.
“I know a guy who’s tough but sweet,” Jamie sang along with a wink for me. “He’s so fine he can’t be beat.”
I simply rolled my eyes.
Christy’s expression glowed with amusement, especially when Jamie slipped his arm around her waist.
“Sorry,” he said without meaning it, “I’m gonna steal your girl.”
I laughed and shooed them away.
“He always does that,” Andy said. “Sorry.”
“No problem. But hey! Glad you guys could come. Let’s get you drinks and I’ll introduce you to Trip and Wren.” I leaned close. “They’re like us.”
“You really have to stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s true. Come on. You’ll see.”
The party was a smashing success, with about sixty people at its height.
Trip’s music and Wren’s food were both hits, of course, along with all the
fantastic costumes. Christy and Wren were voted into the final round in the contest. The others were a saloon girl whose cleavage was a winner by itself, a guy dressed like a baseball card, a girl mummy with Playmate curves, and a guy who looked like he’d stolen Boba Fett’s outfit from the set of the movie.
Christy won the prize for best fairy tale costume, and the mummy girl won for best horror costume (as well as best wet dream inspiration). The baseball card guy was the hands-down favorite for most creative costume.
Boba Fett was the grand winner. He had the helmet, armor, backpack, and everything. His costume was so good that even the diehard mummy and saloon girl fans cheered for him to win.
People started leaving after the contest, although the last of them stuck around till Trip killed the music at three o’clock. We called a couple of taxis to haul them away. They didn’t have to go home, we said, but they couldn’t stay here.
“Leave the mess f’r in the mornin’,” Wren said.
Trip nodded through a yawn.
“Bed?”
“Bed,” he agreed. “An’
fuck.”
“We’ll jus’ see ’bout that.”
They headed upstairs together.
“I dunno ’bout you,” I said to Christy, “but I’m gonna sit my butt on the couch.”
“You have room for mine? It’s little.”
“Sure!” I patted the couch beside me.
She ignored it and sat in my lap instead. She rested her head on my chest.
“I’m really drunk.”
“I can tell.” I suddenly felt a lot more sober than I had the moment before.
“I had fun tonight.”
“Me too.” I put an arm around her out of reflex.
“Your friend Jamie is funny.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“But I think he’s… a little… you know.”
“A little what?”
“He really likes
“I like him too.”
She chuckled like she had a secret. “But not like he likes you.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Thought you’d say that. You’re so cool about stuff like that.”
“Stuff like what?”
“Sex stuff.” She giggled. “That’s such a fun word.”
“Sex? Yeah, it is.”
“No, it’s fun to say.
“Mmm hmm.”
“It feels good in your mouth.”
I decided to play along. “I know another word that feels good in your mouth.”
“What?”
“Nipple.”
“You’re so naughty.”
“No, think about it. It’s a fun word.”
“It kinda is.”
“And it feels good in your mouth.”
“Nipple.”
“See what I mean?”
“Mmm, nipple. That does feel good.”
“Told you. Wanna know another?”
“M’kay.”
“Clitoris.”
She laughed and swatted my chest. “Now you’re really being naughty.”
“Yeah, but it feels good in your mouth.”
“It does.”
“I like the way clitoris feels. Don’t you?”
“What? Clitoris?” She giggled again. “You tricked me.”
“I’d never do that.”
“Liar.” She yawned and squirmed into a more comfortable position. “My turn.”
“For what?”
“A naughty word.”
“Okay, go.”
“Penis.”
The penis in question filled with curiosity.
“Ooh, I can feel it.”
“What d’you mean?”
She grinned up at me, her eyelids heavy. “You’re jus’ trying to get me to say ‘erection.’ Well, it won’t work. Oops!”
“Speaking of which…” I shifted her to the left a bit.
“Had t’ move your eee-rection?”
“It’s a pest.”
“I don’ think so. I kinda like it. Better now?”
“Much.”
“Erection.” She said it normally, as if tasting the word.
“What about it?”
“I like how it feels in my mouth.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“It’s long and hard.”
“It sure is.”
“The word, I mean.”
“Not just the word.”
“Mmm. I noticed.”
We fell silent for a long time. Her breathing grew deeper and more regular.
“I’m really drunk,” she said softly.
“Mmm hmm.”
