Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl by Jessica Sorensen

Author:Jessica Sorensen [Sorensen, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2016-08-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Willow

I don’t know how long I stand outside, waiting for Beck. It could be seconds, minutes, hours—I’m too drunk to have a grasp on time. I know enough time passes that I finish my drink and return to drunken and comfortably numb land.

A light breeze blows strands of my long brown hair into my face as I stumble up to the railing on the back porch and stare out at the field just beyond Beck’s backyard. I’m not sure what to do, if I should go back inside or wander to my car and pass out for a few hours until I sober up. I could go find a room to pass out in, but I doubt finding an empty one is possible, considering how many people are here.

Maybe I should just lie down on the porch and go to sleep. That kind of sounds nice …

The back door creaks open.

“Hey, sorry about Titzi,” Beck says. It’s unnerving what a calming effect his voice has on me. “She can be a bitch sometimes. Don’t worry; I reminded her of that.”

“Her name is Titzi?” I glance at him as he walks up beside me.

He bites down on his bottom lip, fighting back a smile. “What’s wrong with Titzi?”

“I don’t know. It just sounds an awful lot like ditzy.” I rest my arms on the railing. “And tits.” It feels like I should be embarrassed for saying that, but I can’t summon up the will to care enough.

Thanks, Mr. Jack Daniels, for saving me from embarrassment.

Beck busts up with laughter. “Oh, my God, did my sweet, little Willow just say tits?” He turns around, putting his elbows on the railing, and squints at me. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not too much,” I lie. “And I’ve said tits before.”

He stifles a laugh. “No, you haven’t. You never say dirty words unless you’re talking about your anatomy class or something, and that’s scientific.”

“I say fuck, which isn’t scientific,” I point out, offended. Why does everyone think I’m such a prude? Why do I suddenly care? Because you’re druuuuunk. “And dick.”

“That’s not the same.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because of how you use those words.”

Puzzlement tap dances against my intoxicated brain. “I don’t really get what you’re saying. I’m not as innocent as you’re trying to make me sound.” Not even close.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” He chews on his bottom lip, and all of my attention focuses on his mouth. “When you use words like prick and fuck and dick, it’s because you’re pissed off, right?”

I nod, ripping my gaze off his mouth. “That’s normal. A lot of people do that.”

“Yeah, but other people also use the words in different ways besides to express anger.” The porch light casts a glow across his face, highlighting the amused sparkle in his eyes. “Like, for example, saying, ‘Hey, let’s go fuck all night long in my room. We’ll have hot, sweaty sex as I put my dick in your—’ ”

“Oh, my God, I get your point!” I throw my hand over his mouth, my cheeks erupting with heat.

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