Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) (10 page)

“Vi, how did you know you were ready?” Marissa asked.

I held my breath.

Vi laughed. “Since you’re part of the family now, I’ll fill you in on my secret. I’ve never done it.”

Marissa gasped. “You lied during I Never?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I . . . I don’t know. It was stupid. But it’s not like I was under oath. Anyway, I’m sick of being a virgin. I’m doing it on February thirteenth.”

I looked over at her. “Um . . . Jodi and Liam are back together. What are you going to do—lure him with candy?”

“No,” Vi said. “I’m going to sleep with Dean.”

“What?” I shrieked.

Vi’s cheeks turned red. “It’s a better plan. It would be too messy with Liam anyway.”

“Messy . . . how?” I asked. “Physically?”

“Messy
emotionally
. If I slept with Liam, I would have to worry—does he like me? Did I do it right? What is he going to think of me? I don’t want to deal with any of that. I want my first experience to be only about the sex. I trust Dean. He taught me how to drive. He can teach me how to have sex, too.”

I almost missed a stop sign and slammed on the brakes. “Driving, sex, same thing.”

Marissa laughed.

“Have you informed him yet?” I asked.

“Not yet. I want to get ready first.”

“Get ready . . . emotionally?” I asked.

“No. Physically. I still don’t have the right outfit. Or a plan.”

Marissa poked her head between our seats. “How about, ‘Come over, Dean, I’d like to have sex’? That might work.”

“And then he’ll respond, ‘yes, yes, yes,’” I told her. “Easy peasy.” I made a right onto Marissa’s street.

“I think I want it to feel more spontaneous,” she said. “That’s why I need a really good plan. I need a way to set the stage. Something hot. Something sexy. Something—” She gasped. “Look at that. That is what we need. That is the plan. Look!”

I saw where she was pointing. On Marissa’s neighbor’s upstairs deck was a glorious, bubbling hot tub.

“Oh, Vi,” I said. “Yes, yes, yes.”

PARTY ON, DUDE

“This is insane,” I told her. We’d dropped Marissa off, and Vi and I were standing inside the glass walls of Party On!
,
the hot-tub store. Dance music was blasting, even though it was four o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon.

“This is brilliant,” Vi said. Her expression was rapturous as she took in the wood spas, small spas, green spas. All filled with bubbling water.

“We should have brought our bathing suits.”

“Maybe they’ll let us go in our birthday suits.”

“This isn’t Cancun,” I told her.

A guy in his twenties with a goatee, ripped jeans, and a Party On! navy shirt slunk up behind us. “Hey there, girls, I’m Stan. Are you looking for a party?”

“Um . . .” I giggled.

“We are looking to rent a hot tub,” Vi said.

He nodded emphatically. “A party in a tub, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Party on then. We’d like some information about renting one?”

“For parties, graduations, bachelor parties . . . whatever.” He gave us a big smile and scratched his goatee. “What school do you go to?”

“Hillsdale.”

“Yeah? I went to Johnson. Graduated two years ago.”

“Congratulations,” Vi said.

I adjusted my purse. “How much do the hot tubs cost?”

“They start at a hundred and ninety-nine dollars for a Thursday to Monday rental. Or you can do a Monday to Friday rental. That includes delivery and setup. And your party is ready to rock!”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“The water is delivered heated. You’ll be good to go.”

“We’d like to rent one for Valentine’s Day weekend,” Vi said.

He nodded. “I’ll tell you what. I’m getting new inventory in on Monday. For a thousand dollars you can have the Hula.”

“Have the Hula . . . to keep?” Vi asked. “You mean buy it?”

“What’s a Hula?” I asked.

“The pink spa. Over there.” He pointed to a plastic, pink hot tub on the other side of the room. “It seats six. It’s winterized. What do you think? Interested?”

“We don’t have a thousand dollars,” Vi said.

A hot tub in our yard? For the rest of the year . . . and beyond? Yes, yes, yes. “What if we pay you in installments?” I asked.

He scratched the tip of his goatee again. If it was so itchy maybe he should shave it off. “I like you girls, so I’ll tell you what. Give me a two-hundred-dollar deposit today. You can give me the rest this weekend when I deliver it.”

“I can’t afford it,” Vi said.

“But I can,” I told her. I wanted to do this for Vi. I wanted to make her happy. To thank her for taking me in. “How about two hundred today, another two hundred when you deliver it, and then another four hundred on March first?” I asked.

“And what about the last two hundred?”

“Are you sure?” Vi asked me.

I nodded. “And I think eight hundred is a fair price. All cash.”

He laughed. “So, on March first you’ll pay the final four hundred?”

I nodded again. The day my dad filled my bank account.

“You girls got yourself a deal.”

Vi threw her arms around me. “You’re the best.”

I felt proud and warm all over. Almost like . . . I was already in the Hula.

CLICK THOSE HEELS TOGETHER

We were two minutes away from my old house on Oakbrook. The house I’d grown up in. The house I’d lived in with my mom and dad and Matthew. The whole happy family. All I’d have to do is turn left at the light and then take a right and then another right.

“I can’t believe the score we just got,” Vi exclaimed, her feet up on the dashboard.

“He liked us.” When I stopped at the light on Morgan Street I could feel the old pull to turn left. Turn left! Turn left!

“He liked imagining us in his hot tubs,” Vi said.

I turned left.

Vi squinted out the window. “Are we going to your old house?”

“You remember?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

I could taste the nervous anticipation as we got closer. Left on Woodward Way. Would it look different? Right on West Columbia. Was I different? Right again, and there we were on Oakbrook Road. My street, on my block, in front of my house.

My
old
house. I pulled up to the curb and put the Honda in
PARK
. My shoulders relaxed.

“Wow, it looks exactly the same,” Vi said. It did. But didn’t. The door, which used to be reddish brown, was now painted crisp and white. Same with the windowsills. The pine trees my dad and I had planted at the side of the house by the garage were taller now and came right up to my window, which was on the second floor. I loved that room. My cherry wallpaper. My white-and-pink carpet. My amazing bed. I loved that bed. It was a wooden platform bed, the pine stained pale pink. The mattress had just the right softness and was always the right temperature. My comforter matched the platform. Best bed in the history of beds.

I shook my head to clear it. Romanticizing? Me?

Remembering details about the new owners, I expected to see a mom playing with her toddler in the family room, where my parents used to play with me. But the room was empty. The window shades were a quarter up, and the lights were off. And—oh!—a
FOR SALE
sign was in the yard.

“They’re selling already,” Vi said. “Didn’t they just move in?”

“A year and a half ago.”

“Fast.”

A year and a half seemed like a lifetime ago for me. Two years earlier I lived behind those blinds with my mother and brother. Double that and my father lived there too.

“We should go inside,” Vi said.

“No one’s home.”

“I bet there’s a window open or something.”

“You want to break into my old house?” I said. I thought about the back door and how we used to keep an extra key under the mat. I wondered if it was still there. I almost told Vi, but I knew she’d want to go for it, and I wasn’t sure I did. I wasn’t sure if it would make me feel better or worse. Looking at my house made me feel rooted. It should have made me feel the opposite, but it didn’t. Once upon a time, my whole family had lived here together. And yeah, maybe everyone else had left, but my street was still here. My house was still here. I was still here.

Last woman standing.

“Let’s go home,” Vi said, startling me.

Home. Where was home? What was home?

I swallowed and put the car into
DRIVE
. My chest tightened as we pulled away.

LET THE PARTY BEGIN

Stan and two other Party On! employees arrived on Sunday to set up our hot tub. Our beautiful, glorious, flamingo-pink hot tub, with preheated water and cup holders. Squee!

“We probably didn’t really
need
a hot tub,” Vi said.

“Of course we don’t
need
a hot tub. Nobody
needs
a hot tub. We
want
a hot tub. We are two hot girls living on our own. Why shouldn’t we have a hot tub?” I said.

“Good point.”

We watched them through the glass doors.

“But it’s twenty degrees outside,” I said. “Do you think we might lose body parts if we try it tonight?” The backyard was covered in snow. Even the sound was frozen over.

“We might,” she said. “On the other hand . . .”

“How could we not?”

When they were done, Stan knocked and waved. “All set! Wanna test this baby out?” he called through the glass.

“You know he just wants to see us in our bathing suits,” I muttered to Vi.

“Tell me about it,” Vi said. “I think he’s kind of cute, though.”

“Lose-your-virginity cute?”

“Not that cute,” she said, sliding open the door. She called out, “I think we’ll wait for the weather to warm up a bit.”

“But there’s nothing like hot water on a freezing day,” he said.

I paid Stan installment number two and told him I’d come by the store with the rest of the money on March 1.

“Don’t forget to test the pH levels and add chlorine every few days,” he told us as he left.

Maybe next month. This month we couldn’t afford it.

ROOM FOR THREE

On the other side of the glass door, the hot tub bubbled.

“Should we do it?” I asked.

“We should.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll count. One. Two. Three!” She slid the door open and we ran. We dropped our robes (Cold legs! Cold feet! Really cold boobs!), scrambled over the plastic rim, and jumped in.

Ow, ow, ow! “It hurts! It hurts!” I cried. And then . . . ahhhhhhh.
I closed my eyes and let my body melt. Heaven. “This is amazing,” I said. “Hula, you’re amazing.”

Vi murmured in agreement and then we soaked in silence.

“I feel bad that you paid for it,” Vi said eventually.

I opened my eyes and saw her watching me, biting her lip. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

“You should take it with you next year,” she suggested.

I tilted my head back and looked up at the stars. The sky was huge and dark and sparkly. “Take it . . . where exactly?”

She laughed. “Well, you’ll have to go somewhere! Or you can always stay here with my mom. If she ever comes back.”

“I thought she was coming home for a weekend at some point.”

Vi shrugged. “Yeah. I’m kidding. She will. Of course she’s coming back.”

“Do you miss her?” I asked.

“I miss having her here,” Vi said slowly. “But I don’t miss taking care of her.”

“Do you want to live in a dorm next year?” I cupped water in my hand and poured it over my shoulders.

“Can’t wait. Not having to buy groceries. Pay bills. Be responsible.” She laughed. “And nothing says ‘responsible’ like buying a hot tub.”

“It’s our responsibility to relax once in a while. We’re stressed enough as it is.”

I saw a shadow race across the deck. “Oh crap. Was that Donut?”

“No, the door is closed.”

I saw another shadow. A taller shadow. “Hello?” I said into the darkness.

Creak.

“Did you hear that?” Vi asked.

My heart pounded. “Yes. It was from behind the stairs. Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.”

Creak.

“Zelda? Is that you?” Vi asked, her voice higher than usual.

Lucy stepped into the porch light.

“Hi, guys,” she said, her eyes glowing. She was wearing a black winter coat that came down to her ankles and gray boots. I sank back into the water, pressing my hand to my chest.

“Jesus, Lucy, you scared us half to death,” Vi said. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the Party On!
guys earlier and I thought I’d come by and see what’s up.”

“We have a doorbell,” Vi said.

“I rang. No one answered so I’ve been hanging out back here with you.”

Vi and I looked at each other.

“For how long exactly?” I asked.

She smiled. “Oh, long enough.”

Creepy. For several moments, none of us spoke. Finally I said, “Um . . . can we help you with something?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I want in.”

“Into . . . the hot tub?” I asked.

“No. Yes. But also into your little group.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Come on. I know about your parents. Or more accurately, your lack thereof. I know it’s just the two of you living here. I’ve been listening. And following. And I know about your soirées and your taco dinners and your trips to Planned Parenthood. I know everything.” She stepped closer, and once again she smiled. It was creepy and disturbing and wrong in so many ways. “So unless you want me to tell my mother everything I know, I want in.”

Holy crap. I grabbed Vi’s wrist under the water and squeezed. Psycho. Then I started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Vi started to laugh too.

“I’m glad you find me so amusing,” Lucy huffed.

“If you want in that badly . . .” I started.

Vi shrugged. “Then get in. But you better keep your mouth shut.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Do we have a choice?” I asked.

Lucy kicked off her boots and unzipped her coat, revealing a purple one-piece and a . . . holy crap, a kick-ass body. She slipped into the tub. Vi and I exchanged glances. Who knew?