Senior Year Box Set

At the intermission, we walked out into the lobby to get something to drink. I’d noticed Lexi’s parents sitting two rows in front of us. They spotted us when I came back with two glasses of champagne. I introduced them to Erika, and then my phone chirped. Tim had sent me a video. I couldn’t figure it out at first because it had been shot towards the floor, and only feet showed on the screen. It looked and sounded like they were at the mall.

“Did you see what happened?” I heard Wolf ask.

“No, what?” Tim responded.

“Don’t look, but that guy propositioned me.”

“Yeah, right.”

I recognized Tim’s voice and that he wasn’t buying what Wolf had said.

“No, seriously,” Wolf tried to convince him. “He first asked if I had a big one. I told him to back off. Then he said if I would just let him touch my dick, he would buy me a pretzel.”

“That’s weird,” Tim said.

“I know, it totally freaked me out. I never imagined some random guy would approach me like that,” Wolf complained.

“Maybe you set off his gaydar.”

“Funny, Jerk,” Wolf said.

“So, how was it?” Tim asked.

Wolf said something rude as the phone began to shake. Tim had to be holding back a laugh. Then the camera moved up, and it showed Wolf holding a pretzel and waving it around as he told his story. He had to be traumatized by some random guy touching his special place.

The funniest part was the pretzel had a couple of bites out of it. I guess you would enjoy it too if you earned it like that. The video abruptly ended when Wolf realized that Tim had recorded their conversation.

I almost dropped my phone from laughing. Then it chirped again. This time, the text came from Wolf.

‘Don’t believe Tim. I paid for my pretzel!’

So I sent him one back.

‘I bet you did. And U call me a slut?!?’

It’s best that I not repeat what he sent back. My amusement caught everyone’s attention, so I showed them the video. It was funny to watch as they took a moment to put together that Wolf had been offered a pretzel for a quick grope and was, in fact, eating one.

“Those are the two guys you let me hire for the movie,” I explained to Paul.

“Great! I’ll have to make sure our insurance covers them,” he quipped.

“They’re basically harmless,” I assured him.

“I’ve learned that when someone says something like that, you should be wary,” Rachel said.

“And you learned that where?” I asked as I raised one eyebrow to show my doubt.

“The School of Hard Knocks. Fortunately, it has a very low entrance requirement, so she was able to get in without too much trouble,” Paul said.

Rachel gasped at her husband’s shot across the bow.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t married to my mother. I had a newfound respect for Lexi for suffering through having parents who thought themselves funny. I hoped to mortify my own little ones when they got a bit older and able to appreciate a good zinger every now and then.

Erika looked back and forth, unsure how to take the Andons. A tone sounded to let everyone know to start returning to their seats, saving Erika from witnessing more American humor.

◊◊◊

When the show ended, I checked that off my bucket list. Erika seemed to be a little amped up.

“Now, what do you have planned for us?” she asked as we walked through the lobby.

I glanced over, and she turned to me, her smile anxious, as though I were the fun-producing fairy godfather in her very own Cinderella story.

“The people I’m traveling with went to La Rascasse last night to dance. They had a good time,” I suggested.

“I’ve heard it’s fun. It’s on the other side of the Port de Monaco,” she said as she got her phone out to text her driver.

We walked outside, and the polite paparazzi were waiting for us. In a way, they had started to creep me out. It didn’t seem right that they would ask before taking your picture. Back home, they simply assumed that if you were in public, you were fair game.

Erika surprised me when she grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me down for a kiss. I memorized every detail: her closed eyes, her open mouth, the sound of my name on her tongue.

“You’re something special,” I said as I reached up and brushed my thumb over her lips.

I’d completely spaced out that the paparazzi were there as she parted her lips and sucked my thumb into her mouth. Frick, that was hot. Maybe we would skip the dancing and go back to my place. I gave her a wicked look that promised never-ending pleasure.

“You want me, don’t you?” I asked as our foreheads bumped.

“More than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” she said to confirm my suspicions.

I brushed the hair out of her eyes.

“Good. Let’s go dance and see how you move. I want to make sure you’re up to my standards,” I said.

Her eyes got big. I don’t expect she’d ever had a guy threaten to reject her. Something I’d learned about good-looking monied women was you had to keep them off-balance, or you might as well just turn the keys over to them. I’d learned that the hard way when I went out with Jennie Wesleyan.