0.16

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0.16 - Saturday 5:26 p.m.

Rhys Wyer

The familiar rumble of the engine does nothing to soothe my anxiety today. I know what Beverly is doing. She's testing me. I know she doubts me. And tonight is when I have to show her that I'm not fooling around, that I want her as much as she wants me.

Waze, (the only real navigation tool, let's face it), tells me I have five minutes until I reach her house. No, that's too soon. When Waze's annoying, woman-robot voice orders me to go left, I go right instead. After a few seconds, it reroutes. Now I need to go left again. I go straight.

After ten minutes of mindless wandering, I finally decide to follow Waze, realizing that any more stalling and it will count against me.

It takes less than fifteen minutes to reach her house from wherever I was, but each minute felt more like five seconds. All of sudden her street rolls by me and I'm pulling up in front of a modern looking house with dark gray slabs for walls, the blaring odd one out amongst the other Cape Cod style houses lining the street. I let out a breath.

"Rhys!"

I look up at Beverly standing on her porch in comfy shorts and a tank top, arm up and hand waving. This can't be that bad, right? Beverly turns around, gently flipping her hair in front of a shoulder, walking inside and leaving the door open. Fucking shit. She's not wearing a bra. I wouldn't have noticed but she made it so obvious, with that small tank top leaving nothing to the imagination and that hair flip bordering on straight out seduction. What was I thinking? Did I really believe Beverly Jameson was going to invite me to her house just to cuddle and watch movies?

I could still drive away. No. No, I needed to do this, have to do this. I left Mav for this, so I'm going to go through with it.

After shutting off the engine, I hop out of the car, each step closer to the house filling my feet with lead, slowing me down. You know what Rhys? You need to man up. Go in there and fuck her brains out. Okay, maybe not that...passionately. But do your part. Yes, do what you have to do, Rhys.

I entered the house, shutting the door behind me. Beverly isn't curled up on the couch in front of the TV, so I guess that means there will be no cuddling or movie. I continue walking into the house, past the glossy kitchen countertops and dining hall, looking for a swish of blonde hair.

"Come on, Beverly, I don't really want to play hide and seek," I shout.

"I'm upstairs Rhys," Beverly replies with a giggle. Of course, where else would she be?

"Oh, okay. Coming!"

I take my time up the stairs. I'm in no rush after all. Or maybe I should be. Maybe I should go in there naked and just get it over with. I mean, I would never admit it to her—or have admitted to anyone except Mav—but I'm a virgin. Shit, I'm a virgin. Am I willing to give up my virginity right now? Is it that big of a deal? Mav had sex a long time ago at camp or something, when he was only thirteen. I'm seventeen, older than Mav by six months. Losing my virginity should've happened a long time ago.

I suddenly had the ridiculous urge to text Mav and ask him what I should do. But Mav couldn't help me now.

"Hey Beverly," I say as I step inside the room. The pink walls and frilly bed sheets don't match up to the image I had of red walls and black, silk sheets made purely for pleasure.

"I know it's pretty silly..." Beverly says shyly, eyeing the collage of photos taped to the wall, surrounded by heart stickers.

"It's cute," I say with a small smile. Her self-consciousness makes me feel better, more leveled and balanced, like it reassures me that I am not completely out of control. Or maybe it just puts Beverly in a different light, revealing a younger, more vulnerable girl.

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