Hey my last post got pulled so i started something fresh. let me know what you think
Bowling With Skinnies
Opening her eyes, Charlie finds herself gunning down a shaft of backroad pulling to the left. Hugging the hips of Old Mill Road, the car passes dozens of wintered orchards which vein the backhills of Chesterfield. Through the rearview, Ellie can be seen staring down at a 40-ounce bottle of Cuervo, stroking its shaft. Loosening her grip on the cold steeringwheel Charlie welcomes in warmth to her palms, stretching her knuckles wide. A waft of tequila comes from the back bench of the GTO.
Ellie is saying to Misha, “I bet he has a huge cock. Well not huge, but like solid. Like Jason Palmer’s cock.”
“Wow, you’re such a slut. Who the fuck’s seen Jason effing Palmer’s cock? Ew.”
“Everybody has, didn’t you see that pic he sent to Georgia Klein? I actually definitely showed it to you. And I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I think he’s super cute.”
“I mean maybe he’s cute for a construction guy or a goat or something like that. Isn’t his mom Greek?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m just saying he looks like if you didn’t shave for a couple weeks, he’d have more of a field day with your bush than your box is all. Besides he’s European.”
“And?”
“And so his dick probably looks like the top of a turtle neck sweater. They don’t believe in women’s visual rights over there. So if you’re into that kind of thing.”
“What, no way. Jewish people are from overseas too, they pretty much invented circumcision. Not to mention women in France grow out their leg hair on purpose. Europe’s super pro-women.”
“Hey, if you’re into that kind of thing,” shrugs Misha.
“Shutup.”
Misha leans further over the passenger, into the second row of seat, splaying out above the headrest. “You fucking love it.”
Goosebumps rash Misha’s stomach on impact with the car’s upholstery. Twisting and turning her trunk, glints of black lace and areola peek above the leather of her top’s décolletage. Ellie presses her face to Misha, motorboating her boobs in a froth of blonde hair.
Misha pulls away. “I knew you were a lezbo! What did I tell you Charlie? You know what? You should just let Chet down easy tonight before he gets too attached to your tiny ass.”
“Ha. Why? It’s not like he’d go running to you.”
“But how couldn’t he? I mean honestly you’re a cutie Ellie, but you’re just a girl and I’m a woman and you let a boy get a glimpse of all this, and well…”
“And well what?”
“And well, no contest. It never really was.”
Ellie unscrews the bottle of tequila nestled in her crotch. “Alright. Let’s find out then,” taking a swig.
“Aw sweetie, relax. He’s only human. I’m sure he likes you too.”
“I’m serious. You should try and fuck him. Seriously.”
Misha spins to Charlie. “You heard that right? That’s consent I think.”
“Ellie, just forget about it. Meesh has had half the grade inside her. You can’t even want to compete with that.”
“And what, you guys don’t think I can hold my own? I can get a guy. Guys like me.”
“Guys settle for you.”
“Giving lap dances and drugging guys doesn’t make you any more pretty than me.”
“I know people who would disagree. A lot of people actually.”
“Brava Meesh.” Ellie says, clapping her hands.
“And you know waiting for Chet to get plastered at Homecoming is the same as dropping some love in his drink,” she says reaching into her bra, removing and shaking a baggy holding a few tabs of Ambien, “Don’t you?”
“Who said I wasn’t putting something lovely in his drink?” Ellie giggles, biting the bag and dragging it slowly from Misha’s hand.
“Oh fuck, I think that was it,” Charlie says quickly setting the break pedal to the floor and turning the wheel entirely to the left.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Misha also answers, clinging to the chair fighting the deceleration G’s.
The car continues back down Old Mill and then to the right down Jameson toward a cloud of light jetsamed on the horizon. Charlie reaches back, waving at Ellie. Obliging, she unscrews the tequila with some trouble, takes a shot and passes a mostly emptied bottle to Misha. Charlie shuts her eyes and looks to up at the ceiling, opening her mouth. Misha stains the raven of Charlie’s hair with almost all of what was left in the bottle, having less than an ounce land in her mouth. Unfazed or unaware Charlie straightens and accelerates the car, shaking her head and smiling but not laughing, exposing a uniform thicket of ivory. The girls barrel toward a dead end crowned by a plaster white flathouse with many brown rooves and many different wings and sections. What could be a mile of cars blankets either side of Jameson Road, which doesn’t deter Charlie who keeps on straight. Mostly Audis and Porches and Bimmers will, by tomorrow, dent the rim of the lawn which manicures the edge of Jameson Road, but which will also be covered by ice or snow and will remain totally unseen until such a time that winter is eschewed by spring and some man will be called in to evaluate and tend to Mr. Jameson’s house’s landscaping, this entire stretch included.
Arriving at the end of the street, at the house, Charlie brings the car to a fast stop on frontyard. Climbing out of the Pontiac the girls, Charlie and Misha first and then Ellie out of the back, sit and lean against the hood to smoke. Some twenty or thirty people are also in the yard making out and drinking and pissing.
“So we’re really going in.”
“Road home is right behind you Meesh. Feel free.” Charlie pulls a lighter from a black silk bomber, embroidered with something orange on the back. The shortish unbanged hair tucked behind her ears bobs with her movements and dark red lipstick coats thin, pouty lips.
“But, honestly Charlie, look around, really look who’s here. I see fucking Manny Cooper right over there talking to Jordan Dunn. I can pretty much smell Jordan from here, just looking at his ugly ginger floppy mess.”
Ellie smiles. “Oh my god. But did we actually end up at Chet Jameson’s? This is going to be a goddamn nightmare. It’s Thursday. Let’s drive around or something,” Ellie says standing to face the group.
“Ellie calm down, let’s just, take in what’s happening you know?” Charlie pulls her arm around Misha. “Can’t we just chill, and make fun of all these try-hard skinny bitches? And I want to see if Misha can pull off the Chet thing anyways.”
Misha motions with her head to the large willow that would shade the yard in the summer, at a group of four or five girls in white laced things and powder blue tutus and preened heels and high tops and beanies and black jeans and draped silverchains. “You mean like those Skinnies over there. I could make time for that.”
“Its just not a good look. I wish someone would inform these bitches of the wonders of eating.”
“Screwing that twig’s boyfriend was enough I think Charlie.”
“For who?” Charlie jumps up and is skipping towards the Skinny girls then turns back. “What she doesn’t know can’t get me wet, can it?”
Through a couple centimeters of slush the girls move at the Skinny girls below the willow, leaving a triplet of heel paw tracks. Charlie moves her whole upper body when she walks, but in an elegant way, mostly because of how her chin floats above it all. Misha, Charlie and Ellie flaunt toned asses – bodies – under black tights and Charlie wears a skirt as well.
Charlie addresses an obviously shivering girl in tight white lace and skirt: “Fag, Valerie?” Pulling out the box with a cigarette poised at its edge.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks Charlie.” The girl’s frame is tall and frail and supports barely any breasts. “I… haven’t seen you guys out in a while.”
“Mhmm Love, it’s been a while for sure.” Charlie is nodding. “Lately, we’ve usually just ended up out, grabbing a bite to eat or whatever.”
“Oh yeah, for sure. That’s cool – ”
“But tonight we figured, fuck it right? Aha, Stacey Jameson’s thing only comes but once a year. Feels like Easter doesn’t it.” Charlie isn’t looking at any of the girls in particular or at all even.
“Is that your car? So cool.” One of those girls.
“Well it’s my dad’s and he loves it more than me so I’m entitled to my time with it, yeah.”
“So, cool.”
Charlie leans on the tree between a few of the Skinnies.
A shout follows a kid thrown through the front door of the house. Like some penguin he slides through a slush pond, face first. Following the kid is more of a man, wearing a leather jacket with silver studs and gray sweatpants. His hair is long and black and shines in the porchlight.
“Well here’s your chance Meesh. Let’s see you seduce the fuck out of Chet.”
“I don’t really know why you’re rushing me to take your man Elf. Let him get his bearings first, the man’s clearly got things going on. Big things.” She says stealing Ellie’s scarf from behind.
“But I thought Chet was with Stef Monroe?” Val.
“Yeah I heard tha –”
“And I thought a woman couldn’t weigh less than a Graham cracker Valerie. Tonight’s just surprises and fun and more surprises, hmm?”
“Misha.” Charlie flashes her gums and teeth enunciating the word.
Chet reaches the boy in stride and continues on, dragging him by longer-than-shoulder-length hair. The boy’s jeans are soaking through and slide down past his ass.
“Commando was a bad choice!” Misha shouts, loving it.
“You picked… the wrong day… to step on my cat… faggot.” Panting and dragging him. “And now I have to put you down in… front of all your friends.”
“I’m sorry man, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t see the fucking cat man, I just didn’t see the fucking cat.”
“Shut-the-fuck-up Simpson! Whiskers deserves so much more than freaks like you man.” Chet crouches to the longhair boy’s level, slicking back his hair and holding his mouth. “How can you – hey –” turning the boy’s face toward him, “How can you tell me you didn’t see that gorgeous boy. Huh? That precious little boy. Just tell me that. Just tell me so I won’t have to put you down, out here.”
“Dude, I was in the basement –”
“Uhuh.”
“And I go to the fridge –”
“Go to the fridge to get what, Simpson?” Exhaled breath suspends about Chet like a halo.
“I go to the fridge and I go to grab a beer. Yeah, I go to get a beer and I turn and its dark and –”
“Now, not just for nothing, but I need to know what, exactly, you got from the fridge. Because from where I am – from down here – you smell like uhm, I dunno, I can’t quite say. Like lager or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with lager, hell my fridge is full of lager, but I’m also looking at your boots and I’m seeing the better half of a chunk of something that used to be Whisker’s guts, you know. And I’m thinking if this faggot thinks he can walk into my party, my house and just take one of my drinks and kill my fucking kitten and run down my fucking street and escape and everything’s just peachy you know,” calmly adjusting his hair with his chin in the air, he studies the boy. “Well, yeah, you know.”
The kid’s eyes are shut and he sits there whimpering for a long time until Chet slaps his face and grabs his jaw and turns it to face him again. The exchange continues for another thirty seconds or so and then Chet stands up and walks away and then turns back shouting. Then he pulls the Longhair to the tree a few steps behind them and lays him down gently. Chet leans in close to his face and says something about Natty Lite before cocking his arm back and expunging the consciousness from the boy. He starts by wailing on his face and neck. Then he is kicking his chest with the heel of his boot, digging further and further into the boy’s body, mining for tree bark. He stops after a while and walks away fixing his hair still panting. Misha swings her hair to the left then back again and is walking as quickly as one might in heels in snow towards a triumphant Chet, waving goodbye without looking at the girls. Ellie and Charlie smile back at her then turn at the Skinny girls by the willow.
“Head soon Charlie? Now even.”
“Cool. So Valerie, how about it?” Charlie asks.
“How about what?”
“Join us in the city tonight. For a girls night.”
“I, Sure. Yeah, that sounds cool.”
“Parfait,” calls Ellie, already treading back to their orange chariot.
Ellie hops in the back and leaves the shotgun seat up for Valerie to put down. By the time she has readjusted the seat, the car is halfway to the end of Jameson Street. Ellie lights a joint and smokes half and passes it to Valerie.
“So Val, settle something for us,” Ellie presses. “Christian is a total fucking babe right? I mean not even just for an old guy.”
“Who’s Christian again?” Dragging on the spliff.
“Oh my go – Mr. Sims.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely.”
“See me and the girls were talking earlier.” Ellie leans right to the back of Valerie’s chair, and then closer to her head: “We all think he must have quite, the cock.”
“I dunno, I guess so too. Just from how he walks and his hands. He could really have me any time if he wanted – at school even.”
“Owww! Christ she’s a wild one Charlie! Aha. At school?”
“Oh def. Wouldn’t you? Just Imagine, him holding you. He’s just so rugged and. And everything.”
“Well, rumor has it your rugged Mr. Everything is downtown right now. We could go catch him at his worst. How about it?”
“Uh, like right now or.”
“Yeah! Let’s put some dick between you and those fantasies.”
“You know what Ellie? I think our little girl has fallen for Mr. Sims. Isn’t that right BB. No worries, you’ll do great. You come with us, you’ll do fine.”
“You know what I think she’s really worried about?” Ellie says climbing around the front seat, “Is how well, she sucks cock.” Now with her head in Valerie’s lap, Ellie is gagging on an imagined package. “Because you just know a guy like that,” gag, “has seen the best,” Looking up at Valerie and wiping her mouth, “And the worst of his students. Time and time again.”
“He’s already been with somebody? Who?”
“I don’t know, but there’s no way he hasn’t. What kind of guy could be immune to that kind of attention? I bet he breaks kosher, probably once – at least once a semester.”
“Oh shit, you totally blew him! Hahaha.”
Ellie smacks the back of Valerie’s head, “Watch your mouth you little cunt.”
“Ooo, testy. Someone’s testy.” Says Valerie, brimming at her joke.
The girls explode into the city at a hundred miles an hour. Passing streetlights strobe the inside of the car. “You really are very pretty Valerie,” Ellie notices, “I don’t care what anyone says.” Valerie smiles and sinks further into the chair, wishing she had brought her coat or something because the car was not much above freezing – hers was skin much too thin for Canada.
Driving for half an hour they arrive at Osmo Bar, somehow finding parking only a block away between a Volkswagen and a Volvo. Charlie throws the 8-ball shifter in park and slams the door without locking it and heads for Osmo. Behind her Ellie is assuring Val that Luke is in fact still working the door and that even if they don’t get in right away it isn’t much of a deal, nor is it that embarrassing if they don’t get in at all. Most of Valerie’s legs and her back down to pretty much her asscrack are exposed to the wind off the lake and she pulls the lace tightly around her arms, praying Luke isn’t some kind of irresponsible douchebag. But they walk to the side entrance and Luke is there as promised, smiling and more handsome than Valerie would’ve guessed. He holds the door for them and is charming enough and hands them a couple drink tickets each of which haven’t been valid since last month but are accepted by the bartenders regardless.
Pangs of Country music drawl in all directions. Ellie’s hair glows wicked green in the orange neon running the whole inside of Osmo. As the girls negotiate through the rising tide of crowd they are stopped once by a drag queen in dungarees and once by a guy named Will claiming they ‘should see this place in an hour’ because ‘at one o’clock they turn on the mechanical bull – up there on the stage – and there is a prize for the longest ride at the end of the night’. Charlie finally locks eyes with Mr. Sims above the chrome flash of Will’s skull. Moving to the bar, to Mr. Sims, Charlie pulls Valerie by the hand through everybody.
“Surprise, surprise! Fancy seeing you ladies here.” Christian winks. “Grade elevens must be getting older.”