Page 75 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“We should try not to do that at school.”

“That was a very long dinner,” Mo comments as we pass the desk. “Six hours.”

“Six hours?” Dylan repeats in shock.

“Can’t be.” I take out my phone to verify this outrageous information. “He’s right. It’s already three a.m. How is that possible? It felt like an hour.”

Mo shrugs. “Time flies when you’re having fun. I’m glad you enjoyed your night off. Tell your dad that we wish him a speedy recovery and hope to see him back at the office soon.”

“I will,” Dylan says with a nod. “Thanks, Mo.” He looks over at the less friendly guard. “Have a good one, Joey.”

We walk back to the car, and I hop into the passenger seat while Dylan goes to the trunk to change. He gets in a minute later wearing sweatpants and a wide grin.

“I’m gonna add another rule. We’re not allowed to talk about that.” He leans over to give me a quick kiss, then starts the car. “So, I’m just going to drop you off at home and speed off. I’m sure it’s after curfew and I don’t want to have another run-in with your mom.”

“I told my mom I was staying over at Lana’s house tonight.”

“Okay. Should I drop you off at Lana’s house?”

“Uh...no. I didn’t...exactly speak to Lana about any of this?”

He glances my way as he turns out of the parking lot and onto the street. “So, where were you planning on sleeping tonight?”

I shrug, feeling almost sheepish now. “Honestly, I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“That was kind of...impulsive. So, what do we do now?”

I take a minute to think about it. “Oh, I know. We could do a little stakeout at my house. You could park a few houses away and we can just wait for my mom to leave for work, and then I can sneak back in.”

“What time does she leave for work? I have to be in church by nine or my mom will kill me.”

I pretend I don’t hear the church comment. He is so decent and wholesome I could puke. “Her shift starts at six, so she usually leaves at twenty to six.”

We take a slow drive home, and he parks about five houses down the road. Our eyes are red, and our voices get a little gruffer from exhaustion, but we keep talking. We take a break to make out, get carried away, I have another orgasm, and then we continue talking until sunlight breaks the darkness in the distance. The bright yellow streaks across the sky make my eyes burn even more.

By five, the car is stuffy, so we roll down the windows. The cool morning air nips my skin and I pull on his hoodie. Even though it’s been on the ground for most of the night, it still smells amazing. The stakeout finally draws to a close when I see her walk to her car.

“That’s my mom. Get down.”

Like spies, we sink lower into our seats and only pop our heads up again once we hear the car pass. He’s looking back to make sure we’re in the clear, but I still can’t get over the fact that this hoodie doesn’t smell like dirt.

“I love this cologne you wear,” I say. “What is it?”

“Kiton.”

“It suits you. It’s clean and fresh, a little sweet but manly at the same time and?” I freeze. My eyes widen, my mouth dropping open. “Shit,” I whisper under my breath.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s my mom.”

“Where?”

“Behind you.”

Slowly, very slowly, he turns his head toward the driver’s window and almost jumps out of his skin when he sees my mother standing there. “Shit! Holy crap! Mrs. Diaz! How, uh, how are you? Are you...are you good this morning?”

“It’s Dylan, correct?”

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