The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (8 page)

“Love to,” I snark. I turn to walk out the room.

“And don’t forget the pool.”

I almost ask if Charity is going to do anything, but it’s not worth it. Rather than give Mom the satisfaction of a reply, I don’t turn around. I just roll my eyes and walk out of the kitchen.

“The pool!” she hollers when I’m in the hallway.

My shoulders slump and I stick out my tongue and make a nasty face for my own benefit. “I’ll do it!”

“Don’t yell.”

Kill me now.

I thought my eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a fun celebration.

Oh, wait!

Mom.

She is an expert at taking the fun out of fun.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

“He snuck into your room and came on your stomach?!” My bestie Lark Barksdale gasps over the phone.

“Yeah,” I whisper, standing in the garage with the door wide open. Daylight pours in. I hold my phone in one hand while I wipe down the folding tables with the soapy Pine Sol rag.

“That is so dirty! And creepy!”

“I know, right?” I’m so proud of myself.

“I am so jell, girlfriend. I’ve never had a guy cut a hole in my window and ravish me like that.”

“Me neither.” I’m sort of surprised because Lark has a lot of experience with boys. And men. She’s not even sure where or when she lost her virginity anymore.

“When do I get to meet him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe at my pool party tonight.”

“Did you invite him?”

“No.”

“How could you not tell him your eighteenth birthday was today?”

“I sort of lied and told him I was already eighteen.”

“Chastity Shields! When did you suddenly become a lying slut?”

I grin, “Just this morning. Well, I lied yesterday. You know what I mean.”

“Is this your first fib?”

“I think so.”

“You’re going to hell,” she laughs.

“Don’t say that,” I fret.

“There is no hell, Chastity. How many times do I have to tell you? God isn’t an asshole. She’s kind. Good people go to heaven when they die. Bad people cease to exist. Or they get reincarnated as dog poop. Or something like that. I can’t remember.” Lark doesn’t go to church. She makes up her own religion.

“Dog poop? Last time it was toilet paper.”

“I don’t know all the details. Yes, bad people are miserable after they die. But nobody tortures them with fire and pitchforks. Who would do that?”

“God?”

“I told you, she’s kind.”

“Okay. Anyway.”

“Right. Back to your imminent corruption. When are you going to have sex with this guy?”

“Geez, I don’t know.”

“The sooner the better. If he’s as hot as you say, don’t wait. How big is his dick?”

My eyes pop and I check the door to the house to make sure no one is listening. “Big enough,” I mutter.

“Is it donkey dick?”

“I’ve never seen a donkey dick!”

“Baby arm?”

“That is wrong,” I frown. “Why does anybody ever say that? It makes me think it has fingers on the end.”

“Eww. Good point. Some guy probably made that up. When should I come over?”

“Whenever you want. But I have to clean the house and the pool and the blah blah blah.”

“Mmmmm, what time does the party start?”

“Eight.”

“I’ll be there at nine.”

“You’re soooo lazy, Lark.”

“What can I say? Finch got all the hardworking genes.” Finch is her older sister and she works at The Beverly Hills Resort as a concierge and busts her butt for tips on a daily basis.

“Come over whenever, Lark. I won’t make you do any work.”

“Your mom will.”

“Good point. See you at nine?”

“No, I’ll come over sooner. I want to meet Lance before everyone shows up.”

++++8++++

CHASTITY

“Chastity, darling,” Mom croons as if she calls me darling every day.

I’m busy vacuuming the living room. “What?!”

“Turn off the vacuum, dear!” She only calls me dear when we have guests. “I don’t want to shout.”

I kick the switch and the motor whines down. “What?”

“I don’t think we’re going to have enough paper plates and plastic cups for tonight. Can you run by Target and pick some up?”

“Don’t we have like a hundred of each?”

“Well, you know,” Mom giggles, “in case people don’t reuse them. I would hate to run out.”

“Fine. But why Target? Vons is closer and they have plenty.”

“But they won’t match.”

I should’ve known. “Fine, whatever.” I sigh and grab the keys from the key hook by the microwave in the kitchen.

“And take Charity with you,” she adds.

Mr. McKnight is still sitting on the window bench. He’s been talking to Mom all morning. By now, she’s put away the dishes and cleaned the kitchen at least three times.

“Isn’t she busy cleaning the bathrooms?”

Mom smiles in an odd way I’ve never seen before. “She could use a break.”

“Didn’t she just start a half hour ago?”

“The fresh air will do her some good.” Her face says, “
Stop arguing with me
.”

“Okaaaay.” I’m not buying it. She wants to be alone with Mr. McKnight. This is way too weird. I don’t even want to think about why she wants to be alone with him. Unless I woke up in an alternate universe this morning. It’s the only explanation.

Two minutes later, Charity sits beside me as I drive Mom’s car to Target.

“Get your feet off the dashboard!” I bark at Charity. “Unless you want to clean it.” I hate that I sound like Mom, but she will make someone clean the footprints if she finds any.

Reluctantly, Charity lowers her black and pink Skechers and sits up. “Mom likes Mr. McKnight,” she says casually, looking out the side window.

“You noticed?” I joke.

“How could I not? I thought Mom hated men.”

“Me too.”

“What do you think they’re doing right now? I bet they’re kissing.” She giggles with mild disgust. “Or they’re doing it.”

“Mom doesn’t
do
it,” I grimace.

“I know, right? What if Mom marries Mr. McKnight some day?”

“She’d never do that,” I snort.

“Why not? He’s hot for an old guy.”

“I guess. Wait, what do you know about hot old guys?”

Sometimes Charity surprises me with the things she says. She’s not a kid anymore. She shrugs. “Just sayin’. Mr. McKnight looks like Lance. They’re both hot.”

“Charity! What’s wrong with you! You’re fourteen!”

“I’m not blind,” she smirks.

Suddenly my heart is hammering. What would happen if Mom
did
fall for Mr. McKnight? It could happen. Divorced people get remarried all the time.

Oh.

No.

Mom wouldn’t actually marry him, would she?

If she did, that would make Lance my—

“Watch out!” Charity screams.

I slam on the breaks and nearly hit a motorcycle turning out of a strip mall driveway. For a second I think it’s Lance and I’m about to run over my hot new neighbor, then I realize the motorcycle is bright green. Lance’s is black. More importantly, I stop in plenty of time. But every muscle in my body is locked up tight. “Sorry,” I mutter to Charity then hastily crank down the window. I stick my head out and yell at the guy on the motorcycle, “Sorry!”

He flips me off before speeding onto the road and driving off.

“Geez, Chastity,” Charity grouses, “what the heck? You almost hit that guy!”

“I know!” I groan.

“All I said was—”

“Shut up!”

Twenty minutes later, we’re walking through Target. Charity makes a beeline for women’s underwear and starts rifling through black bras.

“Charity!” I gasp. “What are you doing?”

“Duh. I stopped wearing training bras at the beginning of summer. Don’t you remember? Dad took me bra shopping in Illinois way back in July. Oh wait. You were here in LA working. Sorry, my bad.”

“Dad took you bra shopping?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet that was weird.”

“Not really. He just waited outside the dressing rooms and paid for everything when I was done.”

“He didn’t let you buy
black
bras, did he?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think he would’ve cared. But we both know Mom would’ve freaked if I brought home anything other than white. And blamed Dad. So I got white.”

For a moment, I’m completely stunned. Charity is growing up
really
fast. Sometimes I forget she’s not eight anymore.

“Let’s go look at makeup,” Charity grins deviously.

“Charity! Mom won’t let you have makeup.”

“I just wanna look.”

“We’re here to buy paper plates and plastic cups.”

“Are you serious? Mom is completely gaga for Mr. McKnight. She’s not gonna notice if we’re late.”

Why do I think she’s right?

Wow, everything really did turn upside down yesterday when the McKnight’s arrived.

“We can look at whore’s paint on the way out,” I say in my best big sister voice. That’s what Mom calls makeup. Charity giggles. “Plates first.”

 
“Hey, you’re eighteen. You can wear all the whore’s paint you want. Maybe you should wear some for Lance.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Duh. Because you like him.”

“No I don’t.”

“Liar. I saw the way you were looking at him all yesterday. You like him.”

“So what if I do?”

“Maybe
you
should get a black bra. And a thong. Guys like thongs.”

She’s right. The granny panties Mom allows me to buy would never fly for a guy like Lance. “How would you know what guys like?”

“Don’t be dumb. I go to public school and we have the internet.”

I smirk, “If you keep talking like that, Mom’ll pull you out and home school you.”

Her eyes goggle. “No, please no. I would kill myself if she did that. Or run away.” She chuckles casually.

I want to laugh, but something about her tone worries me. I don’t think Charity would actually kill herself, but the very idea freaks me out. “Just don’t talk about black bras and guys in front of Mom. Or makeup. Okay?” I sound like such an uptight big sister right now.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were. Just watch what you say around Mom.”

She rolls her eyes. “Let’s get those plates.”

On our way to the cash registers, we pass the Family Planning aisle. Every time I buy tampons, I notice the boxes of condoms. I always steal secret glances at them, wondering what it would be like to not only buy them but also
use
them. If I’m going to have sex with Lance, I better be prepared. Can I sneak a box without Charity noticing? I don’t mean steal it. I would never steal. But can I somehow bring them to the register and pay for them without Charity seeing? No, I can’t risk it. I’ll have to come back later.

“What are you doing?” Charity pries.

I realize I slowed to a stop while she kept walking. “Nothing,” I gasp and start walking.

She turns and walks toward me. She’ll figure out what I was looking at the second she sees the condom display. If she hasn’t already.

I stride toward her, reaching for her wrist. “Let’s go.”

She pulls her arm away and walks right past me and stops, looking down the aisle. “You were looking at condoms.”

“No I wasn’t! Let’s go. Mom is probably wondering what’s taking us so long.” Ever since Lance, I’ve been lying left and right.

“No she’s not. She’ll probably ask if she can borrow some of your condoms for Mr. McKnight.”

“I don’t have any condoms!” At least that’s the truth. So far. “And would you shut up about Mom and Mr. McKnight already?!”

She turns down the aisle and emerges a second later holding a box of Lifestyle condoms. “I hear these are good.”

“Geez, Charity! Are you serious?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She jabs the box toward me. “Mom would never let you get an abortion.”

I’m stunned.

I buy the condoms, but pay for them with cash on a separate receipt.

I’m speechless the entire drive home.

Did Charity somehow hear Lance and me in my room last night?

The thought horrifies me.

What kind of an example am I setting for my little sister?

Chapter 6

CHASTITY

Mr. McKnight is still in the kitchen when we get home. Neither he nor Mom have mussed hair or rumpled clothes. They most likely did not have sex while we were gone. But you never know.

Mr. McKnight tips back the last of his AriZona Iced Tea. “All outta tea.” He stands up.

“Would you like something else?” Mom offers. “I can make anything you’d like.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get a fresh bottle from my fridge.”

“Are you sure? I make a terrific sweat tea. I can whip some up in a jiffy.”

“She does,” Charity says. “But we all know how long a jiffy is.”

“Charity,” Mom hisses.

Charity smirks.

Mr. McKnight chuckles. “Thanks, Faith. I’ll just hop back home and grab a fresh bottle.”

Mom looks disappointed. “Okay.” She walks him to the front door and returns a second later. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t want to try my tea.”

“Because, he knows how long a jiffy is,” Charity chuckles.

“Don’t you have bathrooms to clean?” Mom prods.

I snicker.

Mom glares at me, “The pool isn’t going to clean itself.”

Out back, I scoop leaves from the pool with the skimmer. The sun is high in the blue sky and the summer weather is perfect. I’d love to be out here in my new pink bikini working on my tan, but with Mr. McKnight back in the house, Mom would say something, and I’m sick to death of her saying something. She’s been doing it all day.

Sadly, she’s like this every day.

I need to ask my boss Mr. Molton for more hours at Marble Slab so I can move out
yesterday
.

My thoughts drift to Lance as I lazily skim the pool.

I didn’t see his motorcycle outside and his Dad didn’t say anything about where he might be. What’s he doing right now? Is he thinking about me while he does it? I wish I knew. Just because he broke into my bedroom last night and came all over me doesn’t mean he’ll be back tonight or tomorrow. He doesn’t exactly look like the type. My shoulders slump at the thought.

I hope I’m wrong about him.