A Summer Nowhere

Every time Sam and Chris got into a big fight, I had to be at Sam's beck and call until they were back on good terms because she couldn't stand to go five minutes without somebody worshiping her. They'd gotten into a big screaming match about him buying weed and smoking it all without her and he said he didn't have to share everything with her, especially if she wasn't even around and what was he supposed to do, let it go stale? She'd sniffled and whined about it for an hour or so before she decided we needed to find Sandy, get wasted, and have some “girl time.” So, long story short, I was stuck out in the middle of Olmstead at some redneck's barn party. I didn't even know a barn party was a thing.

We were supposed to go cruising around town, like we normally did, but Sandy decided she was bored and wanted us to meet her new boyfriend. So we stopped at the liquor store and got a couple of big bottles of strawberry kiwi flavored Mad Dog 20/20. It was this really sweetly flavored malt liquor that was cheap and worked quick. After that, we headed out to the country. She said she had been seeing this guy named Buck for a while. I didn't know who the hell named their kid Buck, but apparently he was the greatest thing to ever grace God's green earth.

I guess he was maybe nice enough, but he was already three sheets to the wind when we got there and he was a loud, touchy drunk. Sandy was a pretty big girl, but he probably outweighed her by over a hundred pounds, and he was tall, too. He worked the tobacco fields on his dad's land and I guessed they were celebrating picking all of it or something, because the fields were empty and the barn was full. I'd never seen tobacco hung out to dry. It didn't look anything like the final product did.

There were about thirty people there and the only ones I knew were the ones I came with. It was mostly dudes Sandy's age, and a few a little older. Most of them had wives or girlfriends with them, and I stuck out like a sore thumb because Sam found people she knew from Chris' neighborhood and huddled up with them to talk about how wrong she'd been done. It figured, I thought. That girl knew somebody every single place we went. For somebody who claimed to be as nonconformist and antisocial as she did, she sure had a hell of a lot of friends.

I tried to go with the flow for about an hour, but it was hard to have a good time when there was nobody there I had anything in common with. The only girl I talked to had a set of teeth that told me she was real fond of smoking meth and she asked me if I wanted to snort some. I declined as politely as I could and pretended to go find Sam, but she was talking to some couple and they didn't look like people I wanted to be around, either. Usually, I'd try and pull her out of the conversation, but I was kinda pissed at her, so I figured she'd just have to be stuck there.

I ended up wandering around and I drank most of the stuff Sandy had gotten me. It was too sweet and no matter how much I shook it up in the bottle, it felt as thick as syrup going down my throat. I finally had to stop when I started to feel like I was gonna' lose my lunch—and all of the meals I'd eaten in the past week or two. It was one of those feelings where you've got to close your eyes to keep the world from spinning and you've got all kinds of drool just welling up underneath your tongue and you can't swallow it fast enough and your stomach is basically just screaming at you for being so mean to it and it's threatening to kick you out and start throwing all your shit out on the front lawn.

I sat on the cold concrete floor against the back wall of the barn. It was nice and dark and there was farm equipment to keep people from seeing me look like a hot mess, not that they looked any better. Part of the tin roof had rusted through and I tried to see the stars through the little holes because somebody somewhere at some point told me that focusing on a particular spot was supposed to make your head stop spinning and your stomach stop hurting. Before I could tell whether or not it was working, some real heavy guy pulled up a folding chair next to me and sat down. He had on a red, white, and blue plaid shirt and a pair of jeans—both were way too big on him, which seemed kind of impossible—and the red baseball cap he was wearing was too small for his head and had sweat stains all over it. He had a five o'clock shadow, real yellow teeth, and a butt chin. He looked familiar, but I didn't know if it was just because I'd seen him around or I'd actually met him before.

“What'sa matter with you, girl?” He asked me. “Why you over here all on your lonesome?”

“I don't feel good.” I told the truth, because I didn't know what else to tell him.

“You don't?” He asked, looking real genuinely concerned, but still a little amused. “You think you're gonna' blow chunks?”

Just the words “blow chunks” made my stomach churn up a storm and I shook my head no, because I didn't want to. I just wanted to sit and wait for it to pass. By myself. But that didn't look like it was gonna' happen.

“I'm Billy.” He said, grabbing my hand off my lap and shaking it. “This is my daddy's place.”

“Mm.” I mumbled, trying to nod my head without having it fall off my shoulders. “I'm Jobie.”

“Jobie?” I jerked his head back and laughed like I'd told him a really good joke. “What's that short for?”

“Nothing.” I shrugged my shoulders, swallowing all the drool in my mouth and trying to suck in all the air I could through my nose.

“Just Jobie.” Billy bobbed his head up and down. “Is there somebody I can call for you, Jobie?”

“My friends are here.” I told him, leaning away from him a little to look out past the tractor I was hiding behind.

There was nobody in the barn but me and Billy and I didn't hear anybody outside, but there was music still playing.

“Who?” He asked, looking like he was about to give me some horribly bad news.

“Sandy?” I asked like I was trying to make sure I was saying her name right or something, and looked out at all the previously occupied space that was now very truly unoccupied. “And Sam? I came with them? This is Sandy's boyfriend's dad's place?”

I didn't know why I was asking these things instead of telling them. I hadn't wanted to come in the first place. I begged and pleaded for Sandy to take me home or to do something else. I liked being in the middle of nowhere sometimes, but I didn't like strangers and when you added strangers to being in the middle of nowhere, it was like a real bad science experiment. Like when you had baking soda, it was okay; but when you added vinegar, it was just a real bad time for everybody unless you were cleaning a bathtub or something.

If they had left me there all by myself, I was gonna' find both of them when I could stand up on my own two feet and murder them with my bare hands.

“I'm pretty sure they forgot all about you, sweetheart.” Billy told me, giving me that weird smile people got when they didn't want you to shoot the messenger. “Everybody went on down to Red River.”

“What?” I jerked my whole body forward like I was trying to lunge at somebody that wasn't even there.

My eyes went blurry and my head started swimming again. I felt all the stuff rising up from my belly and I got up, booking it outside and toward the side of the barn where I finally hurled up everything in my stomach. It was all pink and my throat and nose burned like hell. Why, I asked myself, had this happened to me? For as long as I'd known Sam and for as many ridiculous situations as she'd dragged me into, she'd never once left me somewhere by myself. Usually I was the one dragging her back to where she needed to be, but when I needed somebody to drag me somewhere, she was nowhere to be found. Literally. I hadn't seen her anywhere in a good half hour.

“Who can I call?” Billy asked, scaring me half to death.

He was standing behind me, holding out a scratchy brown paper towel and a black cordless phone. I took the towel and thanked him as best as I could, but I was pretty sure that my throat was being eaten up with acid. Somehow I managed to tell him Gary's home number and thought that if his parents were asleep either Gary would answer or one of them would wake up and I could lie and say I'd been held hostage or something so they didn't wanna kill me later. I didn't even know what time it was, but something told me it wasn't a reasonable hour.

“Hello?” Billy said, looking at this black rubber digital watch he had on his arm. “Yeah, sorry to be callin' so late. I've got somebody here that told me you might be able to give her a ride home?”

He talked for another minute or so before I realized that he was actually talking to Gary and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so relieved in my entire life. It was like a whole load had been lifted off of my chest and I almost forgot how horrible I felt, like I was about to die or something.

“Way way past the railroad tracks.” Billy was saying, waving his arm around like Gary could see him giving directions. “There's about four or five houses. We're the little yellow one on the left.”

I looked around and realized that we were about two acres away from the house he was talking about and I was gonna' have to walk all the way up there in order to go home. It looked like about a hundred miles in my state.

“Says he's on the way.” Billy told me, waving for me to follow him after he'd hung up the phone. He stopped in the barn and put it on a receiver that was hanging on the wall, and then we headed toward the house.

The land was flat, but there were these big shoots coming up out of the ground everywhere that I guessed were tobacco stems. Dodging them made me feel like I was one of those people in movies who had to weave their way through laser beams so they could steal some gigantic diamond or something. I was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, a ripped up Led Zeppelin t shirt that Lynn had found for me at Goodwill, and a pair of flip flops. It was starting to get a little bit chilly outside, but I thought maybe that was just because my blood was so thin. It was just about to be August and the days were still unbearably hot. Nighttime hadn't been so bad, though.

The back door of the house was lit up by a porch light and there were about a dozen moths just fluttering around everywhere. I was immediately creeped out by the look of the place. The yellow paint—probably once sunny and cheerful—was faded and peeling and it looked like something you'd see in a horror movie, some abandoned place that you were never supposed to go. Even the porch light looked faded. But I followed Billy in anyway because what was I supposed to do? Stand outside by myself like an idiot?

We walked into a kitchen that looked like it had been designed in the sixties. The wallpaper was yellowed white with big, orange flowers all over it and all the counter tops were butcher block and had stuff scattered all over them. It was mostly dark, so Billy turned on lights as we went through the kitchen and then what I guessed was supposed to be a dining room. The table was huge but there was stuff all over it and there was an exercise bike in the corner. I realized that the layout was pretty similar to Sam's Granny's house, but it was a mess. I was pretty sure one of the people who lived there had a pretty serious hoarding problem. It smelled like smoke and dust and some kind of animal odor that I didn't even want to think about, but I hadn't seen a single pet anywhere.

In the living room, there was a leather couch against one wall and two big recliner chairs in front of the window. There were rebel flags just about everywhere—a framed one above the couch, a few blankets, an ashtray, and all kinds of little confederate knick knacks. It made me about a hundred times more nervous than I already was, and I was already shaking like a leaf on a windy day. I may have been from Alabama, where I was pretty sure American racism was born, but I couldn't think of anything I hated more than a racist. And I hated when people said stuff like “It's not racist, it's southern pride!” because what the hell was I supposed to be so proud about? Pecan pie? That was just an excuse. I thought to myself that Mama would have a shit fit and a half if she knew I was hanging out with the likes of these people. She'd be ready to skin Sandy alive.

I sat down on the edge of a recliner chair while Billy plopped down in the one next to me and reached for the remote control on the coffee table. He flipped through about a million satellite channels before he came to some old western show with cowboys and Indians.

“You're just a'shiverin'.” He said after a minute of staring at me. I knew he'd been staring at me, because I saw him out of the corner of my eye. But I refused to look at him. He grabbed a confederate blanket and pushed it toward me. “Here. Go ahead and wrap up.”

I was cold, but there was no way I was touching that thing. And I didn't want to be rude, so I just shook my head and tried to smile as politely as I possibly could. “No, thank you.”

“Here.” He repeated.

“Really.” I shook my head, pushing it away. “I don't want it. But thank you.”

“Alright.” He finally quit trying to get me to take it from him and threw it back over the headrest of his chair. He mumbled something under his breath about how he was just trying to help and I pretended I didn't hear him.

“Where you from?” He asked, leaning forward. It looked like he was straining to get close to me because his belly was getting in the way and he just pushed himself forward as far as he could.

“Originally?” I asked, leaning away from him. “Or, like, where in Logan County?”

“Hell, I don't know.” Billy laughed, shrugging his big shoulders. “Both.”

“Um, well...” I stammered. “I moved here from Alabama. But I live in the Chandlers area. In Russellville.”

“Alabama?” He said, looking real impressed. “Out there near Gulf Shores?”

“Not really.” I shook my head. “Alexander City.”

“I don't know where that is.” He told me, like it was my fault.

“It's...” I couldn't help but roll my eyes because I remembered having this exact conversation with James Merchant's snooty falooty parents and I really hoped he didn't notice because the last thing I needed was some crazy redneck murdering me out in the middle of nowhere. “It's near Talladega.”

“Yeah?” He looked excited and I couldn't figure out why until I remembered that they had a lot of NASCAR stuff over there and rednecks loved NASCAR.

“Less than an hour.” I shrugged my shoulders, looking back toward the TV like I was interested in what was on it.

“Hey, you want a Coke or something?” He asked, standing up and shoving so close past me I had to scoot my feet underneath the chair and lean back when he could have gone the other way around just as easily.

“No, thank you.” I shook my head.

“Sit tight.” He told me, heading back toward the kitchen.

Like I had a choice. I pulled my legs up onto the chair and crossed them Indian style, listening super hard out the window so that as soon as Gary pulled up, I could race out the door. But it had only been about five or ten minutes since Billy had called him and it took damn near half an hour to get from our neck of the woods to this one. It wasn't like I wanted him to get into a wreck or anything, but I was really hoping he was speeding. Just a tiny little bitty bit.

I dug into my pocket for a piece of gum and put it in my mouth. Then I threw the wadded up wrapper into the ashtray on the table and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself warm. There was a ceiling fan creaking over my head and blowing down cool air that wasn't helping in the least. Billy came back in carrying a can of soda. He came back around the same way, but this time I was tucked out of his path so he didn't get so close. The springs made the most awful squeaking noise when he sat down.

“So who's this that's coming to get you?” He asked, cracking his can open and chugging for a second, burping loudly.

“My boyfriend.” I glanced at him for a second.

“A boyfriend?” He asked. “What's your boyfriend letting you come out to a party unsupervised for?”

“He's not my daddy.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “And I didn't want to come in the first place.”

“How come?” He asked. “You looked like you were having a good time. You and that bottle.”

Just the idea of that nasty fruit flavored junk made me wanna' hurl again, so I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.

“I don't like parties.” I told him. “I only came because we were already on the road when Sandy decided we were coming and I couldn't just jump out of a moving vehicle.”

“Damn!” He laughed. “You're feisty, ain't ya?”

I hated that word. Feisty. It made me sound like a chihuahua or something, nipping at somebody's heels. He was quiet for a minute and I really started to appreciate the silence, but it didn't last long.

“You and your boyfriend close?” He asked.

I looked at him and realized he was leaned forward again, staring at me, and I leaned further away from him than I already was.

“Yes.” I answered.

“How long you being goin' out?” He asked.

“A few years.” I lied. It wasn't technically a lie, though. Because I'd known him for a few years and sometimes we went out and did stuff, so we had being going out for a few years, just not as a couple.

“Did you go to school with Sandy?” He asked, and I was glad to change the subject.

“No.” I shook my head. “I'm in high school.”

“High school?” He asked, looking surprised. “You don't look like no high school girl.”

He didn't even try to hide the way he was looking at me. His eyes zeroed in on my chest and I realized that crossing my arms only pushed my boobs up more so I dropped them to my sides and then panicked a little bit and crossed them back because I didn't want him to think I was trying to give him a fuller view or anything. The idea made my stomach do flip flops, and not the fun kind.

“How old are you?” Billy asked.

“Seventeen.” I answered, because the way he was looking at me, I wanted him to know I was under age and if he tried anything, not only would Gary probably kill him, but he'd go to jail.

He didn't look perturbed.

“Still a virgin?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows at me and laughing when my cheeks blushed bright red. “It's alright. I ain't gonna' tell anybody.”

If I told him the truth, he'd think I was a slut but if I lied, he'd think I was a prude and I had no idea why I even cared what this gross old redneck thought about me, but I didn't want him to think anything. I didn't even want to be near him, much less talk to him, much less answer any personal questions.

“I think I'm gonna' go wait outside.” I said, standing up and walking back in the direction from where I'd come. “Thanks for calling my ride.”

“Hold on a minute.” He stood up so fast that his chair started rocking back and forth, springs creaking and everything. “It's dark out there. I wouldn't want a coyote to get you.”

“I'll be alright.” I said, thinking I'd rather get eaten by a coyote than stay there another minute.

“Well, I'll wait with you, then.” He followed after me.

“It's alright. You don't have to.” I said. I didn't wanna' tell him no, because it was his house and it was a free country and I couldn't keep him from standing in his own yard just because I was there, but that's exactly what I wanted to do.

I walked faster than I normally would because I guessed when we'd come into the house, or maybe when he'd gone to the kitchen, Billy had turned off the back porch light so the only light outside was coming from the moon. I could hear him walking behind me as I circled to the front of the house, where luckily, it was a little bit brighter. Staring out at the road, I begged god and the universe and whoever else to let Gary hurry up and get me out of there.

“Sure is nice outside.” Billy said, looking up at the sky.

He was standing too close to me. I could smell him and it wasn't a great smell. It was like a mix of sweat and cigarette smoke and beer and mud or something. I scooted a few feet away from him and he followed until we were standing against a big maple tree that sat inside of the curve of the circle driveway. Even though I was a lot more sober than I had been earlier, I was still good and tipsy and all of the side stepping was making me dizzy, so I leaned against the tree and tried to give the impression that I needed personal space. He didn't take the hint.

Billy put his hand up over my head, resting against the tree trunk, and I caught a whiff of body odor that was barely covered up with some kind of men's deodorant. He was looking down at me like he was trying to memorize what my face looked like and I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so uncomfortable in my whole entire life.

“I bet you are a virgin.” He finally said, taking his pointer finger and running it in a line from my shoulder to my elbow. “I could teach you a thing or two if you're interested.”

“I'm not a virgin and I'm not interested.” I told him, stepping forward and trying not to stumble on the loose gravel.

“I won't tell nobody.” He said, kinda like he was singing a song.

“Leave me alone.” I finally got mad enough to be rude. “My boyfriend will be here any minute and he'll kill you if I tell him to.”

I immediately wished I hadn't said anything, because I didn't want Gary getting into a fight with anybody over me. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop him, but it'd be nice to avoid it altogether. Plus, this guy was obviously crazy. He probably had guns all up in that weird house. Rednecks were scary enough, but when they were drunk and a little too handsy, they were terrifying. There was no way I was gonna' get raped and murdered out in the middle of nowhere, even if I had to fight him off myself.

“Calm down.” Billy put his hands up in defense, laughing at me. “I was just playin' with ya.”

“Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes, not even a little bit amused.

I almost started crying when I saw Gary's truck pull into the driveway. As soon as he stopped, I opened the passenger door and climbed in as quick as I could. His hand was still on his door handle, getting ready to get out and open my door for me.

“Damn, Jobie.” He looked at me like he'd been worried sick. “You said you were just gonna' go cruising around town.”

“Please drive.” I choked out, realizing that I was crying. Tears were streaming down my face and I reiterated. “Drive. Please.”

He booked it out of the driveway and back onto the road. “You gonna' tell me what happened?”

It all came out in a big rush of nonsense.

“We were gonna' just drive around town but then Sandy said her boyfriend was having a party and she wanted to see him and she wanted us to come because she hadn't seen us in so long but I didn't wanna' go but she bought us booze and drove us all the way up here and I drank too much and I hid in the barn because everybody there was gross and one lady looked like a crank head and there were a bunch of old dudes and they're all rednecks and there were rebel flags all over this guy's house but I was in the barn and some guy comes up and tells me that Sandy and Sam ditched me to go to the river and I've been stuck there waiting for you for forever with some creep who wanted to know if I was a virgin or not and I just wanna' go home and take a shower and I'm gonna' kill Sandy if I ever see her again, which I don't want to see her ever again and I'm never speaking to Sam for as long as I live, I swear to you, Gary!”

I finally stopped to catch my breath and realized that, at some point, he had pulled over on the side of the road and he was pulling me over to his side of the seat and hugging me real tight. I could feel my heart rate slow down and I finally reached for the hem of my shirt to wipe my eyes on.

“It's alright, baby.” He whispered, rubbing my shoulder with one hand and holding my face with the other. “I'm taking you home.”

“Will you stay?” I asked, looking up at him.

We'd moved around all the furniture the weekend before so that all of Heather's stuff was in Brad's old room and all of his stuff was in my old room. Mama and Dennis moved their room upstairs and I was in the master bedroom downstairs like we'd planned. Heather didn't even bitch when Mama got me a double bed from this mattress place in Bowling Green by telling a little bitty untruth to the owner. She said that she worked for the Department for Community Based Services, which was true, and that there was a woman moving away from a domestic violence situation and was in need of furniture. So he donated a mattress, box springs, and a bed frame to the cause. Mama wasn't a liar, and she said that the story she told happened all the time, so technically, she'd been telling the truth, just not at the right time. Anyway, sometimes Gary stayed over but it usually took convincing because he was such a gentleman that he was a little reluctant more often than not.

“Whatever you want.” He told me. “You know that.”

I scooted over just enough for him to be able to drive, but stayed close enough for him to keep me warm. He must've noticed, because he turned the heat on even though it was still warm outside. Gary drove back toward Russellville like a bat out of hell. If I didn't know he was such a good driver, I'd worry. It was so dark outside that you couldn't see very far past the beam of the headlights and, every once in a while when a car passed, it seemed like they'd come out of nowhere. Another reason I didn't have any desire to drive myself. I'd be a nervous wreck on a night like that.

It was a little past one o'clock when we got home and we found Heather and Mama curled up on the couch watching Steel Magnolias for what was probably the millionth time. It came on television just about every other day and they never failed to tune in. Mama looked up at me like she hadn't expected me to come home at all.

“You're not staying at Sam's?” Mama asked.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I'm never talking to her again.”

Heather pried her eyes away from the TV and looked at me like I was speaking a different language. Even she knew that I was stuck to Sam like glue and she'd never even seen us argue. But Mama had. Every once in a while, I'd get so pissed off at her craziness that I'd go without talking to her for a day or so. The last time was when James told me he had a crush on her and I lost my mind for a little bit. But it didn't happen often and I was so mad and sad and embarrassed and grossed out that Mama looked worried.

“Sit down, y'all.” She ordered. “I was about to head up to bed, but I think I'll make us some tea.”

“I don't want tea.” I told her, shaking my head and feeling dizzy again.

Gary pushed against my back, urging me to lean forward and put my head between my knees.

“Well, what were you drinking?” Mama asked, standing between the living room and the kitchen with her hands on her hips. “You look a hot mess.”

It all came out at once like it had in Gary's truck and by the time I'd told the whole story, Mama looked mad enough to commit a mass homicide.

“Are you out of your mind, Jobie Ann?” She hollered. “I raised you better than this! It's one thing to drink with friends when you're in the safety of their homes, but you know the difference between a good crowd and a bad one.”

“I didn't wanna' go.” I repeated. “Sandy wouldn't take me home.”

“Sandy?” Mama's eyes got big as a saucers. “That little bitch is cruisin' for a bruisin'!”

Sandy's mom worked with mine, except she was in the child protective services end of the building. They'd become pretty good friends and that's how Sandy and I met. Mama really liked her a lot, but that was only because she didn't know how big of a derelict she really was because Sandy had two different faces and could be polite and mature and nice and kind and sweet when she wanted to, but she could also be a crazy basket case when she wanted to, too.

“Get in there and go to bed.” Mama said, pointing at the door to my room.

I did as I was told and when Gary didn't follow, I stopped just a little bit past the doorway to listen.

“Where are you going?” Mama asked him, letting out an exasperated scoff.

“She asked me to stay.” He said, like he was challenging her to stop him and we both knew she wouldn't. “So I'm staying.”

“Well.” Mama said, letting out a big deep breath. “You just make sure she doesn't throw up all over my carpet. She looks green as a frog.”

“I will.” He promised.

A minute later he was with me and closing the door behind him. He locked it for good measure and watched me stagger toward the bathroom to take a shower. When I got out, I felt a little bit better and threw on one of the t shirts he'd left at my house and a pair of shorts. He was already in bed, down to his boxers, with one arm thrown over his eyes. Even when he was relaxed, all his muscles looked hard as rocks and I snuggled up against him, trying to be quiet because I thought he was asleep.

He lifted his arm and wrapped it around me. “You alright?”

“I think so.” I told him, trying to trace the lines in his six pack with my fingers.

“I don't wanna' tell you what to do.” He said, “But don't hang out with her anymore.”

“Sam?” I asked. “I'm not ever talking to her again.”

“Not Sam.” He rolled his eyes. “Sam's your best friend. I don't want you two getting into a fight over this. I'm talkin' about Sandy.”

“Oh.” I mumbled. “Don't worry. The only thing I'd need to see her for is to kick her ass.”

Gary's chest rumbled a little bit when he laughed and he rolled over to face me. “I don't want you getting in trouble, either. But listen to me.”

“What?” I asked.

“Let me talk to Sam before you disown her completely.” He said. “She's a mess because she and Chris are fighting. Think how I'd feel if we were fighting. I'd be a mess, too.”

“No, you wouldn't.” I rolled my eyes. “You'd be fine.”

“If you think I'd be fine without you, you're crazy.” He said.

When he said stuff like that, it made my chest get all fluttery and worry that I was about to have a heart attack. I didn't know how he could be so sweet to me, but I loved that he was. I lifted my chin to kiss him and when I tried to roll over on top of him, he grabbed my hip and pushed me back down.

“Go to sleep.” He laughed, pushing my wet hair out of my face. “We'll see how you feel in the morning and then you can jump all over me.”

“You're such a spoilsport.” I told him, shimmying down so I could rest my head on his chest.

“You're too wild.” He laughed.

I didn't have time to complain anymore because I passed out in about ten seconds.