Page 23 of Drew
“Humor me,” I urge. “I need a distraction.”
“Hmmmm… let’s see…” She tilts her head from side to side as if weighing her decision carefully. “Well… when I was little… I once went to church in my brother’s underwear. Does that count as crazy?”
It does the trick. A chuckle escapes, and I must know. “Why?”
She shakes her head. “My aunt was teaching me a lesson. I always went to her house to spend the night on the weekends, but I typically forgot some essential or another. You know… like a toothbrush, socks… or underwear.”
She pauses for a moment. So, I prompt, “Go on…”
I feel the hand that I’ve yet to release tense as her body squirms. “Well, I told her I couldn’t take a bath before church because I didn’t have any clean underwear.”
“Okay…” I know there must be more to this story, so I wait. And wait… for further explanation.
Finally, she gives in, “You see… I was eight years old. I hated washing my hair because I’d have to sit long enough to have it brushed. I thought if I didn’t have underwear, she wouldn’t torture me. It was the third time I’d come unprepared for church, and she wasn’t having it.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Years later, she told me she was sure I’d been lying about not having underwear. So when she threatened to make me wear Travis’s tighty-whities to church, she’d thought I’d run and grab mine. But nope. It was me in a fluffy dress—which I hated by the way because I was a tomboy through and through at that age—and a pair of tighty-whities.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” I offer. “No one knew but you and your aunt, right?”
“I wish,” she groans. “Prior to that day, I thought the worse offense I could do in church was fart or laugh inappropriately. Nope—wearing Travis’s undies and having him smile and wink through the entire service at me, made me feel as if I would burst into flames. To this day, underwear is the first thing I pack when traveling.”
A chuckle escapes, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of underwear she sports these days. “I can imagine. But I have plenty of boxers, should you need to borrow any.”
What the fuck? Why the hell did I just offer her my underwear? The last thing I need to be thinking about is what kind of underwear Abby has on.
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re willing to make such sacrifices.” She shakes her head. “Okay… your turn, buddy. Tell me the craziest thing you’ve done.”
“Well, it’s nothing that would cause me to go up in flames at church…” I attempt to tease. Why did I ask her this question?
What the hell have I done that’s crazy?
Ever since Summer died, I’ve had my nose to the grindstone to make something of my life. To live the life she never had. But when I see Abby raise an eyebrow in my direction, I know I need to respond. “I guess… I’d have to say… it was probably the time I helped pull a prank on DeShawn. Since we’re roommates, I know plenty of his habits. Before each game, he always loads his pockets with condoms as well as the essentials… like his phone, wallet, keys… ya know?”
“Oookay?” she draws out, clearly not seeing where I’m going with this.
“Well, after the game, he was finally going out on a date with a girl he really liked. While he was in the shower, I snuck over to his locker and saw his dress pants laid out. I took a pair of scissors and cut his pockets partially open. Not big enough so his wallet would fall out, but plenty big enough for condoms and other small things.
“Our other roommate Grey and I followed him. Ya know… to see if anything would happen. At first, we thought nothing exciting would ever come of it. But then the girl he was meeting drags him over to meet her parents, of all people.”
“No way!” Abby shakes her head, and I can’t help but laugh at the memory.
“Just as he reaches out to shake her father’s hand, a condom drops from his pants leg.”
Abby gasps, “You’re kidding me.” She shakes her head in disbelief and joins me in laughing at the memory.
“I can’t make this up—seriously. It fell… right there on the ground between them as he stepped back from their handshake. The poor girl’s dad just blinked and stared at the foil wrapper.”
“Ohmigod!” Abby gasps.
“But you haven’t heard the best part yet…”
A chuckle escapes from the memory, as Abby asks, “And what’s that?”
“Her mother didn’t miss a beat. She stepped forward to DeShawn, shook his hand, and states clear enough for us to hear from twenty feet away, ‘Thank heavens you’re not going to make me a grandma at such a young age. Like my husband, who’s an ex-SEAL, it’s good to see you’re always prepared.’”
“No way.” Abby shakes her head in disbelief. “Her dad was an ex-SEAL?”
“Apparently. The dude was as tall as me and fit. I would’ve pissed myself if I were DeShawn. That’s definitely an introduction that’ll go down in the books as ‘What not to do.’”
“How did DeShawn handle it?” Abby asks with genuine concern.
