Page 113 of All Your Firsts

“It’s a long, shitty story.”

“Spill, Rosalinda.” My eyes widen at her nerve.

“Don’t you dare full name me, Alexandria.”

“How dare you!” She screams and then we all laugh until Alexa jumps up, cursing under her breath and scanning her surroundings with wide, panicked eyes.

“Cameras.”

“Huh?” Jenna and I murmur in unison.

“Fucking Gage. He put cameras in my room before I knew it was him.”

Okay, that’s fucking weird.

“So, you were putting on private shows for the devil?” Jenna’s eyebrows go up and down as she twirls her long blond hair around her finger.

“What? No! I was flipping him off most of the time.”

“Rightfully so. That’s creepy as hell,” I say, looking around.

My brother is insane. I didn’t think he’d have the nerve to carry out something like this.

“Do you know where they are?” Jenna asks as she springs from the bed and looks around.

“If I did, I would’ve already gotten rid of them, genius.”

She nods her head before continuing her search. “Right... Be right back.”

Jenna runs back within seconds, some sort of box in her hands with antennae on the top. “Sorry, boys,” she says in a singsong voice before clicking a button to turn it on.

“What’s that, Inspector Gadget?” Alexa peeks over Jenna’s shoulder.

“Something that won’t allow any devices to work.” We give her a questioning look. “What? I’m scared of skeevy landlords watching me dance around naked.”

With the invasion of privacy taken care of, we take our respective seats back on the bed and continue to drink our weight in alcohol.

“Okay, spill.”

“Everything was great until it wasn’t.”

I start with the easy details.

“Wait, wait, wait. You told me about a piercing, never about a tattoo! Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?”

“Why do you keep saying that? It makes me sound like a prude.”

“It just means you busted out of that sweet little quiet shell you had, and now you’re a little vixen! Let me see it.”

I pull my shirt up, and both Jenna and Alexa squint.

“Oh, I love it! What is this?”

I roll my eyes, “It’s a unalome—”

“I know what that is, genius; what’s this?”

“What’s what?”

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