Page 14 of The Boy Next Door
Chapter Seven
Evan
I hand my friend Corey the gallon of Aristocrat and he dumps it in the cooler. “Man, the chicks love pink panty pulldowns.”
“That’s the dumbest name for a drink I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s perfect. It’s pink and it makes girls pull down their panties.” He grins while mixing in a gallon of pink lemonade. “It’s why I wrote that article for the university paper recommending it as the staple drink at parties.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t fired you from that job yet.”
“I give the paper a youthful edge.” He shrugs and stares down at the cooler. “You think we need another gallon of vodka?”
“Can’t hurt. The worse they taste, the better.” I reach for another gallon of vodka, and after I hand it off, my phone chimes with an email notification. I pull my cell from my pocket and, with a smile, I click on the email titled:Auction Information. Sure, Emma may be pissed at me, but she’ll appreciate it. Someday.
I skim through the message and then—“Fucking shit, no!” I shout, and Corey jumps.
“Fuck, man. Don’t do that shit.”
“How the...” I drag my hand through my hair and pace Corey’s tiny kitchen, still staring at my phone. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!”
“Man, what’s wrong?”
“Daisy Mueller.” I toss the phone onto the counter. “Who the fuck is she? I didn’t sign up for her and...” I grab the phone to look at the winning bid amount. This has to be a mistake. But there, at the bottom of the email is the closing bid of one thousand dollars, billed to my American Express. Just then, a Facebook message pops up.Daisy L. Mueller:Sooooooo excited. Can’t wait for our date.“Fuck!” I shout, tossing the phone across the room. It hits the wall. I’m sure the screen cracked, but at this point, a cracked phone screen is the least of my worries.
“Okay, man, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on because you’re losing your shit right now.”
Glancing up, I swipe my hand over my jaw. “I was trying to do a good thing and got fucked. How the hell...you tell me how the hell I bid on Emma—it was her picture. Her profile. I put my credit card information in with her lot number, Corey, so how the hell did I spend a thousand bucks and end up with fucking Daisy Mueller?”
His brow wrinkles. “What are you talking about?”
“There was this stupid virginity auction and—”
“Wait, wait”—he grabs my shoulder—“wait!There was a virginity auction and you kept that shit to yourself?”
My jaw tenses. “I swear to God, Corey, not now.”
He holds up both hands in surrender before going back to mixing the pink panty pulldown. “Alright, so you won the wrong chick? Get a refund or something.”
If only it were that easy.
