Page 71 of Be My First

I shift in my seat. “Yeah. We’re friends. I’m really good friends with her brother.”

“The President?”

“No, not that brother,” I say.

“Oh, the Senator?” he responds.

“Not that one either. The tech one.”

“Oh, that one,” he says. “Well, she’s single right?”

I hesitate, contemplating lying. “Yeah.”

He lets out a low whistle. “How?”

My thoughts exactly.

He’s fucking her with his eyes right now, and I’d like to rip them out of his head.

“I mean, look at her,” he says. I know already. I don’t need to look at her.

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Later that day, I walkout into the garden to have a moment alone. Justin is leaning against the wall, smoking. He’s talking on the phone and doesn’t notice me.

“Yeah. The President’s goddamn sister. Can you fucking believe it?”

I can’t hear what the person on the other line is saying, but I step further away from him and behind a corner. I can still hear him, but I know he can’t see me.

“Yeah. The hot young one.”

He pauses and then continues. “She is all over me – practically begging for me to fuck her. I didn’t know she was such a little whore.”

My hands form into fists. My whole body is buzzing right now.

“I bet she’s really nasty in bed. She gives me that vibe. The type who likes it really rough but pretends she doesn’t. I wonder if I could film it. No probably not. Well, maybe – can even imagine how much that would be worth? Anyway, wouldn’t that be a story to tell – fucking the President’s sister. I’d be so fucking famous.”

I’m about to take a swing at him when Juno walks outside. “Oh there you are. I wondered where you’d disappeared to. Your timer just went off. I took your focaccia out of the oven. It looks perfect.”

She scrunches up her face and says begrudgingly. “It looks better than mine.”

When I don’t answer, she studies me for a second. “Why do you look so pissed off?”

I relax my hands and say, “I was just stressed about the focaccia. It really turned out?”

She gives me a funny look and then says, “Yeah. Come see it for yourself.”

I follow her inside thinking of all the ways I’m going to destroy Justin. I know one thing for certain, he’s not laying a fucking hand on her.

On the walk back to the house later that evening, she keeps stealing glances at me. “Seriously, Bode, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it has anything to do with the damn focaccia.”

I stop walking and say, “You need to stay away from that creep.”

She jerks her head back. “Justin? You’re this upset about Justin.”

She starts to smile. I point at her and say, “It’s not a joke. Stay away. He’s not a good guy.”

She rolls her eyes and starts walking again. “Not you too. Bode, I can make my own decisions. You aren’t actually my babysitter.”

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