One of the Boys

"Make sure you're home before Eliza flips shit."

"Yeah, thanks."

I exited the truck cab and wandered up Eddy's winding driveway, my hands shoved into the pocket of my hoodie as I sprinted against the wind. I needed some guy time before all my sanity disappeared into the unknown.

Besides Annabelle dragging me to PacSun and Hollister, we made stops at Sephora and - in what I consider to be the weirdest stop - Victoria's Secret. Sephora, well, I could understand that store; make-up, perfume, and other baubles of girliness stretched across the entire store in every color the rainbow had to offer. An employee rushed right up to us before we even crossed the threshold, and Annabelle happily handed me over to this stranger with a fo-hawk.

However, Victoria's Secret . . . eh. I felt as awkward in that store as much as a man might feel. It was bright and pink EVERYWHERE. I knew they loved pink judging from the sweatpants I'd seen a lot of girls wearing around school, but damn, tone it down a notch. I'd walked out of that store with panties of all shapes and colors and a couple push-up bras that were on sale. Annabelle was happy; I was just freaked out.

“Hey!” I exclaimed as I entered the two door garage, my hair that was flying with the wind finally landing against my shoulders as I closed the door behind me. Sapia stood against the side door of Eddy’s truck, his eyes advancing onto me once I entered the room. He grinned and nodded at me, but his lips suddenly pulled downward in discomfort.

Eddy’s head flew upwards from the engine of his monstrous Ford, his nostrils twitching and wrinkling in disgust.

“You smell like a French whore,” he blurted. I stared at him incredulously before lifting a lock of my tousled hair and taking a whiff. Ugh, he was right. I was hoping that the heavy stench of kerosene and grease in the garage would cover any hint of perfume that latched onto me from the mall, but clearly you couldn’t mask the scent of a whore.

“Did the cows eat perfume bottles and shit em?” Sapia asked.

“No, they still reek of shit. Annabelle thought I might wanna smell pretty for you guys so she drenched me in her body mist,” I lied. I hate lying, which is a lie itself. I just hated lying to the guys; anybody else, well, I didn’t give a fuck about them.

“Well don’t you smell just dang gone purdddy,” Sapia slurred.

“Eat your heart out, boys,” I remarked as I slouched onto the tattered green loveseat and threw my legs up over the armrest. Eddy’s garage was the ultimate in redneck luxury; although it was designed for two cars, Eddy made sure his truck was the only automobile taking up space inside of it. There was a wood burning stove that kept the high-ceiling, mini-repair shop warm and a couple couches and chairs. Deer heads were mounted on the wall displaying their points and Eddy’s horrible accuracy with aiming. One eight-pointer adorning the wall had a scar above his right eye showcasing where the bullet that Eddy shot had made an impact. I swore to myself to never go hunting within 500 miles of Edward.

“Why’s it smell like a whore in here?” Pugsly remarked as he entered the garage from the house.

“Cause it’s your birthday,” Eddy retorted as he fussed with wires that were sure to electrocute him at any moment.

“Oh, shit. Is she gonna pop out of a cake?”

“Nope.”

“Then where is she?”

“Right here,” I chimed in as I raised my hand and pointed at myself. Pugsly, being the idiot that he is, peered around the truck expectantly and was truly flabbergasted by his findings.

“Is this a joke?” he asked.

“Duh,” I replied.

“Thank God!” Pugsly cheered with a laugh. I frowned and slowly sat up, glaring at him with the intention of letting the claws come out.

“’Thank God’? What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned.

“Y’know.” Pugsly wasn’t even looking at me; he was creating a giant sandwich with the ingredients he ad hoarded from Eddy’s kitchen. I stood up and made my way over to the table he had consumed with food, my hands balling into fists at my sides. Eddy and Sapia both looked our way, obviously curious to my sudden confrontation.

“No, I don’t know. Please fill me in,” I taunted. Pugsly turned a bit to look me in the eyes as his face was painted over with nervousness.

“You really wanna know?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

Pugsly inhaled sharply as his nerves calmed. “You don’t have it in you to be a whore.”

Brave little bitch.

I stared at him. What was I supposed to say to that? He was studying my face, my hands, and every bit of me to behold my reaction. My fists were turning red and becoming numb from my anger collecting in my fingertips and piling upwards into my wrists and forearms.

“Okaaay, let’s put the breaks on here,” Sapia remarked as he came to my side and rested his greasy palms on my shoulders. I shook him off quickly and resumed my position, but I still had no words for the dead little shit standing before me.

“That’s what you think?” I finally said.

“It’s not what I think, it’s what I know,” Pugsly replied. I clenched my teeth, but my brain was asking me why I was getting so worked up over this. Pugsly was right in every sense of the word. Sapia placed his hand yet again on my back, which added a new tension to my body. It felt as though there was a thick wall of electric static between Sapia’s palm and my back, even though there was no space between them at all.

I sighed heavily. “Got any vodka?”