“And when I went into the closet, it was so dark I couldn’t see anything through the blindfold.”
“So you didn’t know there were three of them in there?” she whispers conspiratorially.
“Of course, I didn’t know. I mean, who would assume there would be more than one guy in the closet? It never happened in high school.”
“None of us were that kinky in high school,” she says.
“I guess. Anyway, I was going to tell them to keep their hands to themselves, but…” I trail off, not knowing how to articulate what happened. I’d sound ridiculous if I told her they bewitched me with their touch, and even though I realized there were three of them, I let it happen.
“But you let them rub their hands all over you, right? Please tell me you had some freaky fun with those gods you live with.”
“Believe me. They aren’t gods. They’re just normal guys.”
“Now I know they did something to your brain because you have never referred to them as normal guys before. It’s always ‘spawn of Satan’ or ‘those assholes.’”
She’s not wrong. Funny how things can change so quickly. “Yes, I had seven minutes of mind-blowing fun with my stepbrothers,” I whisper. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“YES!” she yells, like the mere thought of it is enough to send her into a sex-frenzy. “You go, girl.”
“We didn’t do the sex thing,” I say. “I mean, they did stuff to me.”
“Stuff…what kind of stuff? Are we talking a finger bang or mouth stuff?” Celine’s voice has gone up a few decibels, and I turn to make sure no one is listening to discover that at least three tables of our peers are staring right at us. It must have been the words finger bang. There’s no pretending that means anything other than it means!
“Can we reduce the volume?”
“Sorry,” she says, whispering and bringing her finger to her lips.
“Mouth stuff,” I whisper.
Leaning back in her chair, Celine fans herself. “Who? Which one did it?”
“Does it matter? They were all there.”
“Watching…that is so hot.”
“There was no watching anything,” I say. “It was as dark as a serial killer’s heart.”
“Oh yeah. But still hot. So who? I bet it was Colby. That man has always looked at you like you’re O-neg, and he’s a vampire.”
“Lovely analogy,” I snort. “No, it was Micky.”
“Really. The dark horse. Was he good? Tell me he was good.”
“Good is an understatement.”
“YES!” Celine fist pumps the air, completely forgetting her promise to be quiet. “Please tell me you’ve been inviting him into your room for repeat sessions ever since. You’re my friend, and I love you, but I’ve considered an intervention over your sex life, honey. It’s been Sahara for too long.”
“Sahara?”
“Yeah, dry as the fucking desert!”
Celine will combust if I tell her what has happened since the closet warm-up. And I want to see that happen. “Listen, you cannot tell a soul,” I say, leaning in until I’m half bent over the rustic wood table, holding my drink so I don’t spill it.
Celine does the same, her wide green eyes frantically searching my face for clues. “Tell me now or we aren’t friends anymore!”
“There’s been three more dares since,” I whisper. “And three nights that were the total opposite of Sahara dry.”
“Monsoon wet?” she whispers, her face deadly serious.
“Monsoon wet,” I nod in agreement.
“Fuck…”
For the first time since Celine and I became friends during our first Professor Dorkson lecture, I see her lost for words. “You really did it?” she asks eventually.
“I did.”
“With all of them.”
“Yep.”
She shakes her head and sighs. “If I was wearing a hat, I’d take it off to you.”
“It’s not me,” I say. “It’s the dares.”
Celine takes a long drink of her sweet coffee concoction and nods. “Your dares are way more fun than the ones I’ve been challenged with in the past.”
“Fun,” I nod.
“And a little dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“The danger of discovery,” she says. “You better hope your parents are sound sleepers.”
“They are.”
“The danger to your heart, too.”
I look up from my coffee to find Celine gazing at me more seriously than she ever has before. Hearts are not things we talk about much. We’re fun friends, and that’s cool. I don’t expect every friend I have to be all things. Celine is awesome to have a good time with. She’s encouraging and cool, and I love her a lot. But serious issues haven’t been a part of our relationship until now.
“They’re just dares,” I say. “The triplets know that. They’re not expecting anything else from me, and I’m not expecting anything else from them.”
“If you say so.” Celine glances at her watch. “Ugh. I’ve got another class to get to.”
“Me too,” I say.
As she stands, she smooths her purple dress and hooks her bag onto her shoulder. “Expectations can be funny things, sweetie. We think we know what we want and what we expect until we realize maybe we were lying to ourselves all along.”