Baby & the Bone: Vol. I

She was gross. I mean, they all are, but Britni, especially. She’s the only virgin left, carrying herself with the sort of posture that screams low self esteem. In her two-piece JCPenney tankini, she hugs me, hollering about how much she’s missed me and updating me on what I’ve missed within the Florida public school system. After swimming all morning, her fingers are pruney and her lips are discolored and chapped. She spits when she speaks, and I reapply my grape-flavored lip balm.

Brit was gross. I mean, really gross. As she gets up to clear off her lunch tray, I catch a full view of her ass, and it’s flat, and it’s lumpy, all at the same time. Can you believe? She’s disgusting.

Later that evening, Brit made a mess of our cabin, her plastic hair clips and sports bras strewn all across the bunk beds. I kicked her shit onto the floor; meanwhile, she would gush pathetically to the others about one of the counselors.

“… He’s so tall, I swear he could touch the skies… We made eye contact on unpacking day… his eyes are blue as fuck… and he’s only four years older than us, at most, five…”

Blah fucking blah. My point is, his name was Val, and Kirby’d asked me to fuck him for pills.