Page 78 of Mistletoe Misses
“Hell yeah,” Aaron yells, and I stretch to my toes to see what he’s so excited about.
The sign outside our pub crawl destination number two advertises their featured activity: beer pong.
“Ever played?” Kendall asks after the hostess guides us to an open table and sets down a stack of red and white-striped plastic cups.
“More times than I can count. I’m scared to ask you.”
“I’m not a child anymore, Maddox.”
“No, but still underage.”
“College parties don’t care about your age.”
“I don’t need to hear that but hope you’re talking about drinking.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. It’s a mountain of a deal when it comes to her. “That and other things. I’m not a virgin, you know.”
“Holy shit, Kendall.” I chug the cup of spiced beer that appeared in my hand during this groundbreaking conversation, hoping to rinse that knowledge from my brain. “Does Mom know?”
“Drove me to my birth control appointment with the gynecologist herself.”
“When?”
“Senior year. Right before Jamie popped my cherry.”
Beer spews out of my mouth and floats to the floor like a rain shower. “Jamie?”
“Shhh. Mom doesn’t know it was him, and he’s right there.” Her eyes widen with a tilt of her head in his direction a few feet away. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. He didn’t seduce me or anything, and I was eighteen.”
“Not helping.”
“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and I figured he knew what he was doing.”
“Kendall!”
“He didn’t want to do it if that makes you feel better. But he’d rather it be him than some irresponsible boy at school who couldn’t find his way around a girl’s—”
“Stop. For the love of God, please stop.” My head is pounding from resisting the urge to kill Jamie and fighting back unwanted mental images of him with my little sister. I’m also reviewing our previous conversations to determine if he lied to me.
“I’ll withhold further details if you promise not to go all protective big brother on him. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“If you didn’t want me to do anything with this information, why say it?” This conversation rivals the confusion and irritation I felt talking to Sadie my first day back, only quadrupled.
“I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to see me as a woman, not the little girl I was when you left.”
“I see you. Proof isn’t necessary.”
“Isn’t it, though? You freak out over everything that doesn’t paint me as an innocent child.”
I empty my beer and reach for one of the beer pong game’s full cups to Aaron’s exaggerated complaining. Ignoring him, I drain half of that cup, too, hoping it will help me get through the conversation that just won’t end, no matter how much I beg it to.
“Why did you have to pick my best friend?” I finally ask. As much as I don’t want to talk about them together, I have to know.
“I trust him.”
“So did I.”
“Do. He’s done nothing to discredit himself.”
