Page 25 of Eleven of a Kind

“I sure do, Dad. You don’t think I hear you and the giggles that come from those women when you’re walking up the stairs? All I can say is thank God I switched bedrooms.”

“Enough!” He pointed at me. “It’s too early to discuss this.”

“You don’t need to get so mad,” I said.

“Who I see is none of your business, Riley.”

“You mean who you sleep with.” I smirked.

“Okay, that’s enough, or you’re grounded.”

“Grounded? For what?”

“Your attitude, young lady.”

“Whatever. Samantha and I are going shopping today after school. Her mom is going to pick us up and drop us off.”

“Who’s Samantha?” His brows furrowed.

“My friend from school.”

“Why haven’t I met her yet?” he asked.

“You will. Maybe she can spend the night on Saturday. That’s if you don’t have plans on bringing another chick home. That would be really embarrassing.”

“You have three seconds to get up those stairs and get ready for school.” He pointed.

I rolled my eyes and went upstairs.

* * *

After school, Samantha’s mom dropped us off in Santa Monica and told us she’d pick us up at six o’clock. We walked around, went into a few stores, and then got ice cream.

“Let’s go into that store.” Samantha pointed at the shop called Primrose.

“Hey, girls. Welcome to Primrose.” A younger woman smiled at us. “Let me know if you need any help or want to try anything on.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at her.

Samantha and I looked around the store and saw a few cute things.

“I love this shirt. Oh my God, look how cute this dress is!”

“Try them on,” Samantha said.

I looked at the price tags. “They’re too expensive. I don’t have the money.”

“So what. Just try them on for fun. Come on.” She grabbed my hand. “Excuse me. My friend would like to try these on.”

“Follow me.” The woman smiled as she led us to the dressing room.

I tried on the shirt first and then the dress. “Ugh. I love them.” I looked at Samantha.

“Then take them. I’ll grab the same shirt and dress in a different size, bring them in here, and you shove that shirt and the dress in your backpack.” She looked around. “There are no cameras back here. They’ll never know. I’ll be right back.”

“Sam, I—”

“Don’t be a pussy, Riley. I do it all the time.” She walked out of the dressing room.

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