Sew Basic Forks by Kat Addams

Author:Kat Addams [Addams, Kat]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It took twenty minutes to get two passable photos every sister could agree upon, so we could hashtag ourselves all over the internet before heading to the party. By the time we finally squished into the rental limousine, courtesy of Ms. Sheffield, it was near ten p.m. The driver took off as I settled into my seat while Madison went over the rules for the third time. She reminded everyone we were only to pretend to drink. She didn’t want to stumble upon any of us facedown and ass up on the kitchen table, offering ourselves for body shots. Everyone agreed—some reluctantly.

I didn’t mind the no drinking at parties rule. I planned on blowing off steam in other ways. After Madison had told me she’d gotten us dates from Sigma, I’d panicked. But the more I’d thought about it, the idea of fooling around with a man who knew how to handle me was more than tempting.

I lost myself in excited chatter until the limo turned down Greek Row. My heart lurched into my throat as we pulled to a stop in front of the Sigma house.

“We’re here. Don’t forget the rules. Have a good time. If you run into any trouble, get me right away. Watch your drinks, but better yet, don’t drink them! This isn’t a game, people. I know you all think this is the funhouse, but it’s serious. There’s a reason for their bad-boy reputation. Some are downright dangerous.” Madison wagged her finger in the air.

A couple of girls in the back giggled.

“I think they got it. Let them live a little. Besides, we’re blowing off steam tonight too,” I said, leaning into Madison while the girls filed out of the limo.

“Speaking of, there are our dates. Let’s go!” She grinned before tilting her head toward two men waving from the porch steps.

I peered out the window, trying to get a good look at who would hopefully manhandle me tonight. Both men stood, rocking back on their heels, with their hands shoved in their high-waisted pants.

They wore skintight white belly shirts underneath red suspenders.

Even from the street, I could see the sweet ripple of abs. One of the men had a bandana tied around his head, and the other wore a toboggan. They both wore oversize mustaches that wiggled like a cat’s tail each time they opened their mouths.

“You set us up with fucking Cheech and Chong?” I paused before hurrying out of the limo behind her.

“Relax. They’re hot underneath whatever fluffy shit’s pasted on their gorgeous faces. They’re twins, so we won’t have to fight over them.”

“I don’t think I’ll be fighting over them or their plastered face pubes. You can have both … at the same time if you want. I’ll find a fireman or a sailor or someone who looks like they can rock my world, not take me on a trip with a pocketful of shrooms,” I hissed, gathering my petticoat skirt in my fists and sliding out the door with my legs closed to avoid a crotch shot.

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