Page 46 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

Ophelia:My childhood best friend’s older brother

Frankie <3:I thought that only existed in porn

Ophelia:How cliché right? Friend’s older brother/sister

Frankie <3:I never had a crush on anyone’s sister

Ophelia:What was Frankie Casado’s first sordid fantasy?

Frankie <3:Michelle Pfeiffer, Catwoman

Ophelia:I was secretly hoping it would be embarrassing but that’s a pretty good one

Frankie <3:You want to know what my most recent one was?

I worried my lips together, desperate to find out what he was going to say but not sure I could keep true to my word with Natalia once I slipped down that rabbit hole. My thighs slid against one another softly beneath the covers and I felt an embarrassing amount of relief.

Ophelia:I promised Nat I wouldn’t sext you

Frankie <3:I didn’t promise the same, so you can just listen then

I flipped from my side onto my back in bed as I stared down the text bubble idling on the screen.

Frankie <3:Because I haven’t been able to go twelve hours without fucking my hand over the way your pussy felt coming around my fingers

Fuck me. I knew Frankie wouldn’t take it easy, but that one sentence sent me barreling back to the middle of the ocean with his hands all over my body like a brand.

Frankie <3:I have never been so desperate to have somebody underneath me in my life, Ophelia

Frankie <3:and I’m laying here in bed right now, hard as a fucking rock over you again, but I won’t touch myself if you don’t tell me to

I turned my head into the pillow, willing my resolve to hold out. The ache between my legs begged for attention my fingers were too eager to give.

Ophelia:Tempting…no

Frankie <3:No?

Ophelia:I’ll see you tomorrow night

Frankie <3:Ophelia

Ophelia:Goodnight, Frankie

I was torturing myself just as much as I was torturing him. It must have been a whole minute of watching the screen flash with three angry dots over and over again before a final text came through.

Frankie <3:Sweet dreams, Trouble

14

WhenIwastwelveyears old, Robby Clancy invited me over to his house for a birthday party. My teeth were train-tracked with bright pink braces, and I still hadn’t grown into the freckles on my face. I used my mother’s drugstore concealer that was a shade too pale for my skin to cover them up, and thenpat,pat,patteda thick powder over the top. My hair was twisted into pigtail braids, and my wide-leg jeans were shoved haughtily into a pair of cream-colored, fleece-lined boots. Not ideal at all for a winter in Pine Ridge when the snow would undoubtedly seep through the toes and permanently leave dirty water stains on the material.

I’d had a crush on Robby since the moment I saw him in class the first day of seventh grade. He had spiky brown hair and a Broncos jersey on. He sat straight across from me and asked me if I had an extra pencil. I had thought that was so funny of him. Who didn’t have a pencil on the first day of school?

The days Robby forgot his homework, I would let him copy mine, which was most days. When he had football games, I would draw his number on my cheeks in paint and chant his name across the field. When Robby sprained his ankle, I offered to lug his backpackandmine across school from class to class.

Eventually the crush turned into somewhat of an infatuation. I’d expected us to be doing what everyone else was doing in our grade—holding hands, orkissing, or something. But Robby seemed content to keep me in the friend zone.

I spent two hours at the mall finding a gift for his birthday that year while my parents followed distractedly behind. They were arguing about something, I remembered, their voices getting more cutting and definitive with each word. Too busy with their impending divorce to even give it a second look as I picked something out and swiped the credit card out of my father’s hand without a thought.

---