PUCKED Up (29 page)

“
No.”

“
He’s got his dick hanging out?”

“
Jesus. No. He’s got his arm around her.”

“
Oh. Well, what’s she doing?”

“
Smiling. They’re both holding beers. She posted it recently. They’re at a bar.”

“
There’s no inappropriate hand placement?”

“
Fuck no. I’d be on my way there right now.”

“
Hold up there, Ragey McRagerson. Think about what you’re saying. Some guy has his arm around her shoulder, and you’re considering driving eight million hours north into the middle of nowhere to do what? Yell at him? Yell at Sunny? Throw her over your shoulder and move to a cabin in the woods with no running water and an outhouse so you can keep her in a cage and take her for walks on a leash?”

“
You’re making me sound like a caveman.”

“
If the loincloth fits . . .”

“
He’s her ex. They dated for four years, Vi. What if she gets drunk and decides his tiny dick is better than my above average, magical unicorn dick?”

“
I think you need to stop worrying about your mythical man unit and focus on the real problem. You’ve made some mistakes with Sunny. She has legitimate reasons to be wary about getting into this relationship with you. It sucks. I know that.
But
you have lots of redeeming qualities. You’re awfully considerate and sweet when you’re not out whoring your dick. Which you haven’t been, but it still looks bad, and your reputation precedes you.”

“
I can’t take back all the bunnies.”

“
Nope, you can’t. Which means you have to work a lot harder than most to earn her trust.”

I contemplate that. “I get what you’re saying, but I don’t think it’s fair that I take all the heat on this. All those pictures since we’ve been dating haven’t been intentional.”

“
Do you think these are?”

“
What if she’s letting him take all these cozy pictures to get me back?

“
You mean to make you jealous?”

“
I guess. People do that sometimes, right?”

“
Sometimes. I don’t see Sunny being vindictive about it, but you need to talk to her. Maybe it’s intentional, maybe it isn’t, but unless you have that conversation, all you’re doing is spinning your wheels, making up worst-case scenarios.”

Vi’s right. I exhale loudly into the phone. “Are relationships always this hard?”

“
Not always. But the ones that are worth it are the ones you have to fight for.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

VIDEO KILLED THE BATHROOM STALL

I’m half a second away from calling Sunny when my phone rings. At first I think it’s Violet calling back with some final insult of the night, or parting words of wisdom—both are equally likely. But it’s Sunny, and she’s on a video call.

My first thought is phone sex. I don’t know why. I have no real privacy here. I’m kinda pissed at her, and we’ve never had it before. Also, my balls still hurt. I have a feeling it would be almost impossible to get a hard-on, let alone come.

I answer the call. The screen remains black for several seconds before Sunny’s tear-stained face appears.

My anger dissolves into worry. “Sunny? What’s wrong?” I try to assess her surroundings, but she’s holding the phone close to her face.

“
You promised!” She’s drunk. I can tell by her slur and the heaviness of her eyes. I’ve seen Sunny tipsy a couple of times. She was cute and fun and touchy. That’s nothing like she is right now.

I can only assume she’s seen the pictures of my dick. “Sunny, baby. I can explain.”

“
You can always explain! You’re so good at it. Why do you have to look so good? Why do you have to be so sexy and sweet and good at sex? You’re all I can think about and—and—and—” She breaks down in a fit of tears.

I can’t see her face anymore. I think I’m looking at her hair, but it’s hard to tell. Music gets loud and then quiet again. Voices in the background sound male. I wish I had my earbuds. Sunny’s a loud crier, and sound carries around here. Even with the buffer of forest surrounding the cabins, our private conversation is public.

“
Sunny Sunshine, take a breath. It’s okay. I wish you would’ve called me or messaged this week, then you’d know you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“
We didn’t have very good reception. Well, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have gone with the cheaper phone package. I mostly only had one bar. Sometimes I could see your texts, but I couldn’t reply. Lily’s reception wasn’t any better. I tried to use her phone, and there were all these pictures—” She hiccups.

“
Let’s talk it out.”

She lifts her head and looks blearily at me. “Your penis is all over the Internet. It was supposed to be
my
penis.”

“
It is yours, baby. I’m sorry about the picture. I got bit by a spider today. I didn’t know Randy was gonna put that picture up.”

“
I don’t care if everyone sees your penis. It’s a nice penis. Except your balls looked really big. Like, not-right kinda big, which I guess is from the spider bite? It was the comments on your wall. I didn’t like them. I can’t—” She hiccups. “Did you know there’s a hooker bunny group dedicated to you?”

I sure do. I stumbled on it one day when I searched my own name. I created a fake account under the name Beaver Bunny and joined so I could see what they posted. There were a lot of selfies, many of them with me sleeping and the girl giving the thumbs up. Sometimes there were pictures of my junk hanging out. None of that is going to help make things better between me and Sunny.

“
Baby, you don’t want to look at that stuff. You know how people like to skew things.” As for the comments on the picture of my balls, I can’t control bunny condolences.

Sunny sits up straighter and flips her hair over her shoulder. She twirls a thin braid between her fingers and rubs it over her lips. “I didn’t try to join the group. I know what you’re like. I know, and I still—” She sighs. “Lily and Benji are fighting a lot. I was going to sleep in the tent last night, but there’s bear poop around the site so I didn’t. I don’t think Kale is over me. Are you over me?”

I’m definitely worried about how drunk she is, based on her inability to stick with one train of thought. I’m also concerned about her location. I have a million questions, such as where the fuck is she sleeping if she’s not in the tent close to the bear poop, and what exactly has been going on with Patch McBushman for her to say he’s not over her. I’m back to being pissed, but I recognize that expressing my frustration is useless with her in this state.

I address the last question, because it’s the most important and likely the only one she remembers. “No, of course I’m not over you. Why would you think that?”

Her eyes drop along with her voice. “We had sex. I figured once you had the milk you’d throw away the cow.” She looks up again, tears sliding down her blotchy cheeks. “Why do you think I held out for so long?”

“
You thought I wouldn’t want to see you anymore after we had sex?” This is definitely not a conversation I want to have on the phone.

“
Well, yeah. You’re so good at the sex, and I’m not. I bet the hooker bunnies are good at it. I bet they give blow jobs. I should’ve given you a blow job. You’re amazing at sex. I already told you that didn’t I? I think I’m kinda drunk.” She blows her hair out of her face. When it doesn’t work she pushes it away with heavy, uncoordinated fingers. “If there was a Stanley Cup for orgasms, you’d definitely get it. I could make one for you in my pottery class. I miss you. I’m so mad at you. You promised no more bunny pictures and poof!” She snaps her fingers sloppily. “One magically appears. She looks like me. Do you think she’s prettier? She was wearing makeup. Should I wear makeup?”

Her honesty makes me feel ill. There’s so much about what she’s said that’s unsettling. This isn’t how I want things to be between us. I didn’t push for sex because I didn’t want her to think that was my only reason for being with her. I thought I’d made that clear. But again, she’s not in any condition to have that talk. “I think you’re gorgeous without makeup. And that wasn’t a bunny. It was one of the camp counselors. Sunny, baby, where are you? Where’s Lily?”

“
I already told you, she’s fighting with Benji.” She shifts around, leaning against a wall. Words are written on it in marker, or scratched into the surface, exposing silver where there was paint before.

“
Are you in a bathroom?”

She nods and sniffs. The sound of toilet paper being pulled from a roll follows. She brings the wad to her nose and blows. “It smells horrible in here.”

“
I bet. Why don’t you go outside? It’ll smell way better and be quieter.”

She drops her voice to a whisper. “I’m hiding.”

“
From who?”

“
Kale. He tried to kiss me. He hasn’t brushed his teeth since we got here, I don’t think. Or maybe he has cavities. Anyway, his breath is bad. And his beard—I don’t like it. It’s not soft like yours was during playoffs. I like your beard. It feels nice on my nipples.” She strokes along her collarbone. She might be wearing a dress, but I can only see from her shoulders up. “I like you a lot, Miller. Everyone thinks I shouldn’t. Except Violet and my mom. She thinks you’re perfect and that you’ll take care me, but I can take care of me. Lily tells me I’m gonna get hurt, and maybe she’s right, but I don’t wanna listen because I want to be with you, but sometimes it’s so hard.”

Her candidness gives me a lot to process. There’s a quick burst of noise. Country music and male voices filter through the phone, along with a flush and the sound of water running.

“
Sunny, can I ask you a question?”

“
Sure.”

“
Are you in the men’s bathroom?”

“
Uh-huh. No one will look for me here ’cause I have a cookie, not a penis.”

She’d be funny if I was there to take care of her. I’m angry at Lily for not being a better friend and Patch McBushman for making her feel like she needs to hide. “You need to get out of there, sweets.”

“
I can’t. There are urinals. Men pee in rows. It’s weird—like cows feeding at a trough, but they’re peeing. They’re right outside the stall. I’ll see penises. Or is it peni? I don’t know what the plural is.” Her eyes are wide with drunken horror. “I only want to look at your penis.”

“
I’m glad you feel that way. But the men’s bathroom isn’t a good place for you to be. Just cover your eyes and head for the door.”

She takes a couple of deep breaths.

“
You can do it, Sunny. I’d come get you if I could. Camp’s done tomorrow. I’ll come as soon as the kids leave.”

“
I don’t need you to save me, Miller. I’m self-succinct.”

I think she means self-sufficient, but she’s mixing up her words. “I know that. I’m just worried, and I don’t like that you’re upset. I want to be there to make it better.”

She licks her lips. “I like it when you make it better. Better always feels good.”

“
I’ll make you feel really good when I see you, ’kay?” I hope it’s loud enough in the bathroom that no one else can hear our conversation.

“
Okay. Maybe. First I want to be mad about the picture of you and that girl who looks like me.”

“
That’s cool. You can be upset about that. We’ll talk about lots of stuff.” We both have things to be unhappy about. “You gonna get out of that bathroom, now?”

“
Okay.” She nods, resolved. “I’m gonna put you in my bra.”

“
I love being in your bra.”

“
I know. Oh, wait. I’m not wearing a bra. Hmm. I’ll put you in my underwear.”

“
Even better.”

She’s definitely wearing a dress. She stands and hikes it to her waist, shoving the phone down the front. It’s the closest I’ve been to her pussy in a week.

There’s a rattling sound, then Sunny panicking. I try to tell her to calm down, but since I’m in her underwear, she can’t hear me. All of a sudden there’s a loud slam. Deep voices issue shouts of surprise and a couple of whistles.

“
Sunny? What are you doing in here?” I know that voice. It’s Patch McBushman.

There’s some fumbling and arguing. The music gets obnoxiously loud, then there’s crunching. Gravel, maybe. More muffled talking. All of a sudden it’s not dark anymore. Sunny’s phone drops out of her underwear and onto the floor of the trailer. I can see her legs and her panties. They have little flowers on them.

A hand covers the screen like a spider. It’s not Sunny’s face I’m met with afterwards. I almost gag; it’s Bushman.

I point at him. “I’m coming for you.”