Page 71 of All Your Firsts

“You’ll see,” he says with a smirk while pulling me out the front door that Trey and his mystery girl just left through.

Vic salutes Trey, who revs his engine and speeds down the road with his new friend clinging to the back.

Once we’re in Vic’s truck, he reaches into the back seat and pulls out a duffel bag.

“Put these on.” I hold up a sweatshirt and a black mask with holes where the eyes are.

“Are we robbing a convenience store or something?” I say with a laugh.

“Look in the duffel bag on the back seat.” I lean back and pull one side open before laughing.

“Is that toilet paper?”

“It is.”

Oh my God.

My list.

“We don’t have to toilet paper a house. It’s silly, remember?” I say, mirroring what he said when he first saw my list.

It hurt when he laughed at it. I guess the idea of toilet papering a house is pretty silly for someone my age, but I started this list as a child. It’s something all the other kids did at school on weekends that I never got to experience because of my parents’overprotectiveness. The little girl in me deems it necessary to complete the whole list. No matter how juvenile it may be.

Apparently, Vic is taking it seriously, too.

I can’t help but smile.

“We’re doing it. Put that stuff on. We’re almost there.”

I waste no time donning the all-black attire.

As we pull up to a residential area, my heart races uncontrollably. We’re really going to do this. I can almost laugh at how silly I’m being. My palms are even in the beginning stages of clamminess.

“Okay, we have to be real quiet and quick. You don’t want to go to jail, right?”

I take a deep breath, my eyes going wide. “Jail?”

“I’m kidding. You’re so sweet and innocent,” he says as he rubs my cheek through the mask, making my heart stop. “We’re going to run around the corner to the house. Then throw as much toilet paper as possible. Got it?”

“Yeah,” I say with a grin.

We open the doors slowly before getting out. He comes around the back and pulls something out of the back as the duffel bag hangs from his other arm.

“Do you want me to hold something?” I whisper, needing something to keep my hands occupied so I don’t throw up out of nervousness.

“Nah, I got it.”

We trudge toward a house with a long driveway and trees covering most of the front, giving us the cover we need and helping with our semi-illegal crime. He opens the duffel bag and hands me a roll.

I let the first piece sail through the air like a streamer, and my small giggle feels weird but exciting. I can’t believe we’re doing this. This is so bad, but it feels good.

Five minutes later, I scan my surroundings while snatching up the last roll. The entire front yard is scattered with toilet paper, creating a chaotic and messy winter wonderland scene.

“Finish that one, then run back to the truck. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I nod, too scared to use my voice so close to the house.

As I rush back to the truck, a playful chuckle rises in my throat, matching the excitement coursing through my veins as I hop into the cab and rip off my sweaty mask. I’m on a complete high right now. I might cringe about it later when I think of the person seeing it in the morning, but right now, I’m up in the clouds without a worry in the sky.

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