Page 23 of F*ck It Out With A Devil

“Because, the mysterious Devils of Cliffside are throwing it, and I want to be there if they decide to show up.” She wags her eyebrows like she knows some big secret I don’t.

“So, in other words, you’re trying to get dicked down tonight?” I chuckle.

She sighs, “You can say it with a little more class.” She sees the look on my face, and adds, “Yes, I’m trying to get dicked down by one of them.”

I throw an ugly Christmas sweater at her, scrunching my face up, “I knew it, you slutty-bag whore! You are something else.”

Her brows furrow as she comes to me and asks in a voice so small, “So, you’ll go with me?” I wonder why it’s such a big deal.

“How can I let you go and make a fool of yourself without me? Somebody’s gotta keep you in check.” I may roll my eyes at her, but there was no way I’d let her go alone.

“Hey, I’m the one that’s gonna keep you in check, missy.” Now she’s pointing that boney, little finger in my direction like my fifth grade teacher used to do when I’d get into trouble.

“If you say so, sweet bottom.” I laugh, walking back to her and smacking her on the ass.

“Don’t do that, you know how I love it when I get spanked.”

“Don’t remind me.” I like to be spanked, at least, I think I would like it. Bash doesn’t do it. “What time does the party start, and where is it located?”

“It starts at midnight, and it’s at the old mill down off of Baker street. You know, Baker’s Field Mill?” Yeah, I know it.

That’s where I was almost raped by Silas, my ex-boyfriend. That’s a memory I don’t want to go down ever again. I haven’t told anyone about that, and I still don’t see how I made it out of that alive.

Shuffling around the room, I ask, “What are you wearing?” I don’t want to turn into a sour puss by thinking about what could have happened, so I focus on our attire.

“Something slutty and extremely revealing. If I don’t fuck a Devil tonight, I’ll settle for the next best thing.” She chuckles, going back in search of something in her closet.

“I don’t think I have anythingthatslutty.” I burst out laughing.

“Are you calling me aslut?”

“Not really. I mean, if the shoe fits, put that bitch on and wear it with pride.” I snort, and this earns me a pillow in the face.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” My laughter has died down a notch as I bounce back from that hit.

“There’s more where that came from, missy. Don’t fuck with the babysitter!”

“You’re so deranged, and I love it.” I pick up the pillow and toss it back to her. “Let’s find something to wear. Are you done with classes and work for today?”

Not only do we attend the University, we both work on campus. My teacher’s aid position pays okay, but I also have a part-time job at the local photo processing shop, Say Cheese!

It’s a totally corny name, but I love that place. I’ve been working there since I was in high school. It’s been around since before I was born, and I’m so glad they are still in business. To see how film is processed in an almost fully digital world is so extraordinary to me, I’m glad to be a part of it. Hopefully, they never shut their doors.

“Nope and nope. I found out about this party weeks ago from Johnny, and I made sure to request off for us both.” She has everything all mapped out.

“How can you even do that?”

“When I want something, I get it. No sense in beating around the bush. Plus, we are basically joined at the hip, when I requested off, they automatically gave you off so no worries.” Huh, she’s thought of everything.

“I guess you’re right.” Time for me to stop worrying, it’s a sin, and it seems like that’s all I do these days. ‘What? Sin or worry?’ My thoughts are cut short when I hear the doorbell ring. “I wonder who that could be?” I ask, getting up to go answer it.

Heading downstairs, I let my hands slide across the beige walls lined with pictures of us all living our best lives… Together. I flop down the stairs, touching the walls and railing as I go.

Ever since I was a kid, it’s something I’ve always done. It’s like my fingers just need to experience the wonderfully calming textures as I pass by.

Finally making it to the door, I don’t even look to see who it is. Yanking it open, I see first the crisp, wrinkle-free, black suit of the man I’ve developed a crush on when I was just sixteen years old. Over the years, it developed into something more. When my parents died, he inserted himself in my life more and more. Well as much as Aunt Josie would allow, I think, chuckling to myself. And when he finally asked me out, I was over the moon. We’ve been dating ever since.

My cheeks begin to flame when I get to his face and see a look there that tells me he would eat me alive given the opportunity.

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