CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Raven Dawn
“We’re home!” I shout into the penthouse as I usher Divine inside and set the box full of her things on the entrance table.
Dad follows behind us carrying her suitcases. Together with her duffle bag, all her worldly possessions fit into four containers. It’s kind of sad.
Mom appears at the end of the hall and comes to meet us. “Hello, Divine. It’s good to see you again.” She’s smiling and it’s not forced. She’s really warmed up to the idea of Divine staying here, and not just because she and I had a bonding moment.
A rush of love warms me, followed by the desire to hug people. Maybe I’m finally coming out of my terrible teens, as my parents have jokingly called it, even though I have a year and a few days to go.
Divine smiles shyly—shy is something I’ve never seen from her. “I want to thank you so much for letting me stay here, Mrs. Fahr. I already thanked Mr. Fahr but I just can’t say it enough. I promise not to be any trouble to you.”
“It’s quite alright. We’re happy to open our home to you.”
There’s this awkward moment when Mom and Divine don’t know whether to shake hands or hug. I laugh and give Divine a little shove toward Mom. The two finally figure it out, and Mom hugs her real good, patting her back.
“Alright, alright, enough of this,” I tease with a laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you your room. It’s right next to mine.”
We head toward my room, but I slow, turning back to Mom and Dad. Mouthing the words, “thank you,” I smile and dash off with Divine.
After Divine puts her things away in her new room, we settle into the family room to watch TV. Divine plays Candy Crush, I text some friends, and we chat about everything and nothing at all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Divine so relaxed. It makes me smile to know I did this for her.
Later, Mom and Dad poke their heads in to let us know they have plans for the evening and will be back late.
“There’s meatloaf and potatoes in the fridge,” Mom says. “And, Raven, please steam some vegetables, too.”
I wave to them in acknowledgement and when they’re gone, I give Divine a friendly little shove on the shoulder. “Wanna order a pizza for dinner?”
She looks at me like I must be crazy. “Didn’t your mom just say—”
“Hey, if you don’t want pizza…”
“Pepperoni and mushrooms.”
I laugh and hit the speed dial on my phone for the pizza place. The pizza guy promises delivery in forty-five minutes and I call Henry to tell him to let the delivery up.
“You want anything before the pizza gets here?”
Divine doesn’t answer. Following her gaze to the TV, I see “Heartbeat,” Dean’s show has started.
“You like that?” I poke her shoulder to get her attention.
“Umm, yeah, it’s okay.” She blushes. “We can put something else on.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “I could tell you stuff about Dean that would cure you of your crush in seconds flat.”
Divine’s blush turns a deeper red. “I don’t have a crush on him.”
“Yeah, right. You’re the only female in Canada that doesn’t.” My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I pause to read it. “Shyla, Alyssa, and Peach wanna stop by tonight. You up for a girls’ night?”
“Yeah, sounds like fun. I’ll text Gin-Gin and Carmen.” She scrolls through her phone. “They can spread the word, if that’s okay?”
I nod. “Just make sure they know it’s a no alcohol night. We’d both get kicked out if Mom and Dad caught us with booze on your first night here.”
“Sure. How about BYOS?”
“BYOS? What’s the s stand for?”
“Snack.” She has a very serious expression on her face, then bursts out laughing.
I join in and we giggle until we’re out of breath.
An hour later, bellies full of pizza, we have a room full of our friends. The music is blasting and we’re all on our feet dancing like crazy people. Peals of laughter occasionally drown out the music and I realize I’ve never had such a good time in my own home before. The girls all came through with BYOS and we’ve been grazing off a feast of chips and dip, chicken wings, deviled eggs, popcorn, cupcakes, and cookies.
Everyone stuck to the rules, to my great relief, and didn’t bring any alcohol, not even beer. Someone did light a joint a few minutes ago and it’s making the rounds, but I think we’ll be okay.
“Dawn, where’s your mom’s first album?” Shyla screeches at me. She’s always screeching. She’s a cutie, but short. Maybe she thinks no one’ll hear her otherwise.
“Her first one? You’re joking, right? That one sucked!” I move through the horde of gyrating hips, crunching popcorn underfoot, to the top-of-the-line stereo system. This place is going to need a good vacuuming. Instead of her first, I put on my favorite of Mom’s, the one she made just after breaking free of her creep manager, Wolf. “Now, this one kicks some serious ass!”
“I love this one!” Jinx shouts and throws up her hands as she grooves to the beat. “Rachel St. Claire is amazing! It’s too bad she’s retired. I mean, shit, listen to that voice.”
“She’s not retired.” I frown. “Why do people keep saying that?”
“Because she’s not going on tour with Milo and David, duh.”
“Don’t duh me.” I laugh, but am still frowning inwardly as I dance my way closer to Jinx. “I think I’d know.”
“Really? Then why isn’t she touring with them?”
I stifle a sigh. I never did get around to asking Mom about that. “Rock star reasons.”
Everyone within earshot laughs and, thankfully, the subject changes to something less worrisome. Boys. And how big their dicks are. We’re a classy bunch.
“I heard that Skull has a teeny weenie and that’s why he’s always so cranky.” Gin-Gin snickers as she holds her thumb and pointer fingers very close together.
We squeal with laughter.
“That’s nothing,” Alyssa says. “I know for a fact that Bullseye, Skull’s younger brother, only has one ball.” She takes a hit from the joint and passes it to me.
“What? How is that even possible?” Bringing the joint to my lips, I drag the sweet smoke deep into my lungs and hold it there.
“One of them never descended.” She winks. “You’ve seen him. He walks with a limp. That one ball weighs him down on one side.”
The smoke comes out of me in a coughing, sputtering laugh. “Stop, you’re shitting me!”
Peach takes the joint from me and nods toward Divine. “Come on and tell us, Dawn. How big is Dean’s?”
Divine turns her head so fast, she might have given herself whiplash. She’s clearly interested, but I’m disgusted.
“Eww! That’s my brother! Just… eww!”
“I’m not saying you should get with him.” Peach laughs and shimmies to the beat of the music. “But you’ve seen it, right? Like, him coming out of the shower or something?”
“Even if I did, and I’m not saying I did, I would not tell you bunch of perverts how big my brother’s dick is.” I reach into a bowl on the table, grab a handful of popcorn and throw it at her. “I’ll repeat, eww!”
“Hey, don’t waste the snackage!”
“I hear that Lobo’s a thick eight inches,” Alyssa says.
I wonder how she knows. It’s not that I’m jealous, but it’s strange thinking that she might have been with him.
“Oh, girl, if that’s true, Dawn, you’re in for a world of hurt.” Carmen nods knowingly.
I feel my face reddening. “It doesn’t have to hurt that bad if he takes it slow.” This is something I learned from Dean during our talk at dinner the other night. At the time, it made me feel better. Now, I’m worried he only said that to ease my mind.
“You think he has the patience to take it slow?”
“I… umm…” I clear my throat, at a loss for words.
I’m grateful when Divine sticks up for me. “It’ll hurt, Dawn, but it’s nothing like the exaggerations you’ve heard or these cum dumpsters are telling you.” She lets out some pot smoke and passes the joint. “Just remember, the first time isn’t for pleasure. It’s for breaking through the hymen. It’s the second time that’ll curl your toes.”
I nod, taking in this new information.
“Whoo! I love this song!” Shyla shouts, and that ends the penis conversation.
We fall silent, dancing, smoking, gorging on junk food in the dimly lit room. We’re all so high, we’re finding the slightest things hilariously funny, and there’s outbursts of giggles. When Shyla screams, I laugh, thinking she’s living up to her name until I see worried looks.
I turn to see a hulking, shadowy figure in the doorway of the family room.
“That’s just my dad, dork.”
“Oh my god, oh my god. That’s Rachel St. Claire!” Shyla gets so excited I think she might have an aneurysm.
I look past Dad to see Mom in the shadows behind him.
“I love you, Miss St. Claire! You’re amazing!” Shyla is rushing forward and I’m right on her heels. Fans can do the craziest things and it wouldn’t do for her to jump my mom.
Mom steps forward and graciously extends her hand to Shyla. I’ve seen this act before. Mom’s in the spotlight greeting an adoring fan. I suppose that’s okay, especially since the family room is a disaster area and the place reeks of weed.
“It’s so nice to meet you.” Mom lets Shyla grab her hand and pump it enthusiastically.
Shyla’s face is pale and she’s sweating, and I wonder if she’s about to pass out.
I’m not sure whether to laugh or roll my eyes. “Chill, Shyla, it’s just my mom.”
“Just your mom? Are you tripping? She ain’t just anything, girl.” She hasn’t looked away from my mom. “Thank you, Miss St. Claire. Thank you…”
“Alright now, ladies.” My dad steps in while Mom is distracted. “It’s a school night and it’s getting late. Time to wrap this up.” He smiles to show he’s cool, catches my eyes and winks.
My friends grumble but gather their things and hug me as they leave, like I’m in a receiving line. It’s kind of cool. This is so different from how we leave Lucifer’s most nights. No one is stumbling, no one is going to wake up not sure whose bed they’re in, and there’s no vomit to clean up. I think the best part might be that I won’t have a hangover in the morning.
Divine is the last one to hug me. She gives me a good squeeze before letting go. “Later, gator.”
I grab the fabric of her t-shirt before she can get any farther. “Divine, you going somewhere?”
She turns to me, confusion clouding her eyes, then breaks into a smile. “Oh, no, I guess I’m not.”
We giggle as I drape an arm around her shoulders and we head off down the hall to our bedrooms.
“Dawn,” Divine whispers. “How big do you think Fringe’s cock is?”
“Eww, cut it out.”
I laugh it off but the question sticks in my brain like a badger, burrowing its way in until I can’t stop thinking about it.