Page 10 of Perilous

“Let me help with that nose,” I say toBag Guy.

I swing my foot and kick his face, not even sure if I actually hit his nose or not. I step over towardHoodie Guy. He’s got a massive welt on his forehead. Surprisingly enough, the bottle didn’t break.

I crouch down and hit the bottle as hard as I can against the ground, breaking it. Now I've got a jagged piece of glass in my hand.

Hoodie Guylooks right at me. Groaning in pain, shock in his eyes, he asks one simple thing.

“Why?”

I slammed the broken glass down into his face.

As far as the answer to his question? Why did we do this?

Because sometimes in life you’re in the wrong place at the wrong fucking time.

ChapterFour

ANNIKA

Molly blocksthe mirror and eyes me up and down. She then unbuttons two buttons on my shirt and steps behind me.

“Really?” I ask.

“You have nicer tits than I do,” Molly says. “Show them off a little. Those girls must be desperate and lonely.”

“Excuse me? You don't know a thing about my sex life.”

“Exactly. There’s nothing to know. Nothing is happening. Do you have cobwebs between your legs too?”

Molly’s hands are suddenly under my boobs, over my shirt, pushing them up.

“Look at these tits,” Molly groans. “I would kill for these.”

“Are you done fondling me? Which, by the way, you didn’t ask for consent to do so.”

“I don’t see you elbowing me away. Maybe you secretly like it. Huh? You do know some doors swing both ways and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

That’s when I wiggle and elbow Molly away from me. She cracks up laughing and I walk out of my bedroom, buttoning up my shirt. There is no need for me to walk around with my boobs and bra hanging out of my shirt.

You want to see something? Come talk to me. Come earn a chance at it.

I’m not some all-you-can-eat buffet. Fuck no.

I’m an elegant, fine dining establishment.

Now I’m wondering if I just compared my vagina to a meal or not.

“We need a drink!” Molly calls out. “Tradition before we leave!”

“I don’t have any…”

Molly emerges from my bedroom with a bottle of vodka. At this point in my friendship with her I don’t even bother to ask where she just pulled that from.

It’s pretty safe to say that Molly has a serious drinking problem. I’m not here to judge, but I have two eyes and can easily observe.

Molly finds two coffee cups and puts way too much straight vodka into each. I sip mine. She downs hers as though it’s water.

She spins around a few times, letting out happy cheers and dancing. That gives me the chance to dump the rest of my vodka down the drain. We’re then out the door to a waiting car that takes us off campus and into the city for some fun.

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