Page 39 of Deliverance

I’m not lying.

“Oh really? With who?” she questions.

“Does it matter?” I throw back.

“I think your father would like to know where you’re going and who you’re going with, yes,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

I’m ready to verbally annihilate her when Brad jumps in.

“She’s going out with Jeremy Stroughton. He’s been chasing after her all summer.”

Calista looks at him for a moment before turning to face me.

“Is that true?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m running late. I’ll see you guys later.”

I don’t bother waiting for a response as I slip out the front door. Pulling out my phone, I pull up Maggie’s number and hit call.

“Hello?” she answers.

“Hey, where are you? Your mom is home and asking a million questions.”

“I know. She gave me the third degree before I left. Just get in your car and meet me at the Italian restaurant in Peabody.”

I scrunch my nose up as I make my way to the car.

“Why are we going one town over?”

“So no one we know sees me slip under the table and eat your cunt under that pretty white dress.”

My cheeks instantly flush as I whip my head around.

“How did you know what I was wearing?” I ask as I open my door and climb into the car.

A short pause is followed by a devious chuckle.

“I may or may not have snuck a peek in your room while you were getting ready.”

I fire my car up before my jaw drops.

“Maggie!” I screech.

She laughs more and I can practically see her smile as I begin driving away from the house.

“What? I couldn’t help myself.”

I shake my head, unable to stop the laugh that slips out of me.

“Perv. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Already waiting for you, baby B,” Maggie says before hanging up.

An eagerness fills me and no matter how hard I try to shake it or push it away, it doesn’t move. Instead, it ramps up. By the time I pull into the parking lot, I’m practically vibrating with nerves. Or maybe it’s excitement? Maybe both.

With shaky legs, I step out of my car, locking it as I move across the parking lot and into the restaurant. I can’t help but keep my head on a swivel, looking from left to right for anyone that looks vaguely familiar before the hostess greets me.

“Just one?” she asks.

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