Page 27 of Devilry

“You make it sound so romantic.”

“Or maybe, I’m just trying to remind myself why I’m here,” she confesses.

“That bad?”

“Let’s just say I haven’t found the student that makes it worth it, yet.” Her shoulders slump in defeat. “It’s been close to a month and all I’ve been blessed with is an abundance of arrogance and privilege.”

“Fucking rich kids,” I mutter.

“My parents would’ve kicked my ass if I acted so entitled.”

“My mom used to wash my mouth out with soap.”

Harper’s eyes widen at me. “That would’ve been disgusting.”

“I haven’t even told you the worst part.” Inspired by the shock all over Harper’s face and wanting to lighten up her mood a little, I share one of my most embarrassing moments. “The last time she did it, I was seventeen.”

Bringing her hands to her face, Harper muffles the loud laugh that leaves her mouth at my revelation.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Two plates, holding the largest portions of Tiramisu I’ve ever seen, are placed in front of us, momentarily interrupting my story.

“I can’t eat all this,” Harper argues, while contradicting her words by dipping her spoon in the dessert, then taking a bite.

“You can, and you will.”

She moans as she drags the silverware out of her mouth. “Okay, maybe I can. Now, tell me, what did you do?”

“Well, you’d think I actually did something offensive with said mouth,” I start. “But no, my mom just loved to use it as a form of punishment. She never hit us, or lost her cool screaming. Instead, she came up with consequences that were completely irrelevant and equally humiliating.” I quickly take another spoonful of the decadent coffee flavored dessert before continuing. “I wrapped up my best friend’s car with plastic wrap after school one day.”

Harper’s spoon stops mid-air. “The whole car?”

“Multiple times,” I clarify.

“Why?” she asks. “Actually, don’t bother answering that.” She waves her hand at me. “I know how stupid teenage boys are, and clearly your mom did too.”

“I would like to add that in any other circumstances she wouldn’t have cared, but Trey’s stepmom went into labor and his car was the only way to the hospital.”

She gasps before covering her mouth with her hand. “You fucked up big time.”

I nod sheepishly. “She had the baby at home. The ambulance didn’t even get there in time.”

“Hence the soap,” Harper confirms.

“My mom was sneaky, though. She waited till Trey’s mom was back home with the baby, and then she took me over to apologize and washed it out in front of everyone.”

Harper slams her hand on the table as she doubles over in laughter. “Your mom is my freaking hero.”

We both continue sharing stories, the conversation between us effortless. With each laugh and trip down memory lane, I feel the tension within myself start to dissipate. Satisfied with how the night is progressing, we polish off our dessert and add a few more drinks to our tally before deciding it’s the right time to move on to our next destination.

“You brought me to a gay bar?” Incredulously, I look between the plethora of men walking into the club and the neon sign above the entry door that obnoxiously reads ‘Hard Heads.’

“Did I miss the memo where you announced you no longer like dick?”

“No.” I chuckle. “But the dick that likesyouisn’t in there.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she sasses, “I’ve sworn off men for a while. So, a night of dancing where nobody is going to hassle me, touch me, or try to get into my pants is exactly what I need.”

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