Walking Travesty

Later that night my phone rang, Emily's name showing up on the screen. "Hello?" I sigh into the phone.
"Hey, how pissed is your mom?" she asks, sounding worried.
"She was fine until I embarrassed her in front of her boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" she sounds as surprised as I had been. "Damn, she moves on fast." I groan in agreement, and tell her about the awkward lunch I'd taken part of earlier. "Ooh, a doctor. What are we rating him?"
"I'm not rating my mom's boyfriend, Em," I say with an eye roll.
She giggles. "C'mon, on a scale from Will Ferrell to Johnny Depp?"
I sigh, and think for a minute. "Um... I don't know, a younger George Clooney."
"Damn, I need to meet this doctor," she sighs dreamily. I make gagging noises, and she laughs again, then becomes more serious. "Anyways, I talked to Alex earlier and he said you had an anxiety attack?"
I sigh, a little embarrassed that he'd told her. "Yeah, just a small one."
"You didn't stop taking your medicine, did you?" her worried, maternal voice is on, and I can't bare to tell her that I'd stopped taking the anxiety and anti-depressant pills days after leaving the hospital.
"No, of course not," I lie smoothly. "I was just tired and had too much caffeine."
"Okay," she says, accepting my lie for truth. "By the way, how was your stay in the hotel?" her voice is full of teasing.
"Good."
"Good as in okay, or good as in you guys had flaming hot sex on every piece of furniture?"
"Good as in good," I reply with a small laugh, laying back on my bed.
She lets out a sigh. "You're such a prude. I don't know why you don't just get it over with."
"Thank you for being such a good influence on me," I say sarcastically. "I bet my mom would agree one hundred percent."
She laughs. "Well, she is banging a doctor who's considerably younger," she points out. "She can't really judge you for sleeping with a guy your own age."
"I'll do it when I'm ready," I say with another sigh. Then I quickly change the subject to one that I know will distract her from my sex life. "Do you wanna go dress shopping with me sometime this week? Or better yet, do you want to go dress shopping for me?"
"Ooh, let's go tomorrow," she says excitedly. "I saw this amazing dress at Charlotte Russe, and it will totally get you laid."
I smile and continue talking to her about the senior ball for a while, until we say goodnight and hang up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What about this one?" I ask, holding up a simple, floor length, grey empire waist dress. We were in our fifth store, and we'd been shopping for a good three hours, and still hadn't come up with anything we both agreed on.
Em wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "Um, no." She pulls a super short, low cut, purple one off the rack and smiles hopefully at me. "How about this?"
"Uh, sure. I'll go grab some hooker heels while I'm at it," I say sarcastically as I grab the dress from her and re-hang it.
"You're no fun," she whines as she goes back to searching. After a few minutes, she lets out a gasp and I turn away from my rack to look at her. "This one!" she exclaims. "This one or we can't be friends anymore!"
She spins around to reveal a floor length, one shoulder red dress with beaded, floral decor on the top. "It's pretty," I admit. "but it's not my style."
She rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, dragging me towards the changing room. "I don't give a shit if it's not you're style. It's fucking pretty and you're gonna fucking wear it."
"Oh-fucking-kay," I say with a laugh as she shoves me into an empty stall.
I lock it and strip out of my jeans and t-shirt, then pull the dress gently from the hanger and step into it. I zip it up completely before looking in the mirror. "Is it on?" Em calls from the other side of the door.
"I'm getting it," I inform her as I grin at my reflection.
"Are you gonna come out, or do I have to crawl under?" she asks impatiently. I turn and open the door. Emily looks at me briefly, then her eyes widen and a smile spreads across her face. "Yes! I told you, it's fucking amazing!"
An elderly employee scolds her for swearing, making both of us giggle. "So I should get it?" I ask, even though I'm already in love with the way it feels and looks on my body.
"Um, yeah," she says in a 'duh' voice. "You and Alex are gonna get lucky," she sings while wiggling her eyebrows up and down.
I roll my eyes and close the door again. "Is Jack bringing you?"
"No," she sighs. "Apparently there's some lame-ass rule about not bringing anyone over nineteen. You guys should skip the after party and come over my place though."
I pull the dress off and put it on the hanger. "I'll talk to Alex about it," I say as I redress myself.
When I exit the changing room she snatches the dress from me, and hurries away, yelling over her shoulder something about needing to find accessories. I groan and follow her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How was dress shopping?" Alex asks.
"Terrible," I groan into the phone. "But I got my dress."
He chuckles. "My mom's making me go to get a tux fitting sometime this week. What color tie should I get?"
"Red. I think you should get a bow tie."
He ignores my suggestion, and, in what I think is supposed to be a seductive voice asks, "Did you get a garter?"
My cheeks flame, and I'm glad we're on the phone and not talking in person. "I wasn't going to, but Em made me." I eye the small pile of red and black lace that's sitting on my dresser next to the matching thong she'd forced me to get. "Speaking of Em, she wants us to go to her apartment after the dance instead of the party."
"Sure, she'll have better alcohol."
I smile. "True."
"So, are your mom and her boyfriend going out of town without you now?"
I nod, then realizing he can't see me, I say, "Yup. They're going to New York tomorrow."
"If you want someone to keep you company, I can totally spend the night," he teases.
"Oh, I don't know," I say in mock seriousness. "My mom told Emily to check on me every once in a while, and she can be quite the strict one."
He laughs, and the sound makes me smile. "So is that a yes, you want me to sleep over, or a no, leave me alone you fucking creep?"
I giggle and lay down on my stomach. "I'll think about it."
"I'll take that as a yes." He yawns, then says, "Well, I'm about to fall asleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night."
"Night, babe." I click hang up, then press my face into my mattress and smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day after school and therapy, I make myself dinner and watch TV for a while. Even though my mom had texted me around three, telling me they were in NYC, I haven't invited Alex over, because I'm paranoid that they'll suddenly walk in and she'll flip shit.
Around nine thirty I ignore my paranoia and text him.

Me:
You coming over or what?

Alex:
Be over in a few. Wait by the door for me... naked. ;)

I laugh and curl deeper into the couch as I wait for him to arrive. Five minutes later I see headlights pull into the driveway and I get up to unlock the door and let him in.
"Inviting boys over at night with no adult supervision," he says in mock judgement. "Tsk, tsk, tsk."
I smirk, then eye his bag that looks too heavy to just be holding clothes. "What's that?"
He grins, and then unzips it, revealing two bottles of vodka. "Emily gave them to Jack to give to me."
I raise my eyebrows. "She parted with that much alcohol voluntarily?"
He shrugs, then smiles boyishly. "She said something about it being her responsibility to help us both get laid."
I blush, then grab one of the bottles and walk into the living room. "She's trying to corrupt me, I swear."
"Your mom must adore her."
"Surprisingly, she does." We both sit down on the couch, each having a bottle in hand. He starts to drink from his, but I stop him. "Drinking game," I announce, then nod towards the TV that's playing a FRIENDS rerun. "Every time Joey says 'How you doin'?' we have to drink.
He grins, and as if on cue, Joey says those three words and we both drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a while we'd given up the game and just drank freely, and my thoughts and reality sort of meshed together, making it impossible to think straight.
Alex's head was on my shoulder, and occasionally his lips would plant a kiss or two on my shoulder, which seemed to set my skin on fire.
"I'll be there for yoooou," he sings softly, his words slurring together.
"'Cause you're there for me tooooooooo," I reply.
He giggles and takes his head off my shoulder so he can grin at me. "You're a terrible singer."
"You're a terrible kisser, but you don't see me complaining," I tease.
He rolls his eyes, and grabs the bottle from my hands, since he'd finished his a while ago. He takes a drink from it, then hands it back. "I think we should make out," he informs me, as he leans forward and kisses me.
I giggle, then kiss him back, setting the nearly empty bottle on the ground.
His lips send imaginary flames over my body, and I pull him on top of me, deepening the kiss. His warm lips trail across my jaw and down my neck as his hands tug at my shirt. I let him pull it off and slide my own hands up his shirt as his work on taking my bra off. He gets it off and moves his mouth down to my chest, kissing and sucking roughly on my sensitive flesh.
His calloused hands trail down my torso, until they reach my jeans. He lifts his body off of me just a little, keeping his lips where they were, as he starts unbuttoning my pants. He pushes them down mid thigh, then seems to forget about them momentarily as he focuses on giving my left breast a hickey. I moan and his hands immediately remember my pants, and his mouth travels further down my torso as he pushes my jeans down to my ankles. His fingers trace the waistband of my underwear, and the touch sends a shiver down my spine. His teeth bight at my hipbone as his fingers tug my underwear down my legs. He seems to be moving painfully slow, and my entire body is screaming for him to move faster, my back arching to bring my body closer to his lips.
I can almost imagine Emily dying from happiness.