Walking Disaster

can’t stand
what
?”
    “If you sleep with him, I don’t wanna know about it. I’ll go to prison for a long time if I find out he . . . just don’t tell me.”
    “Travis.” She seethed. “I can’t
believe
you just said that! That’s a big step for me!”
    “That’s what all girls say!”
    “I don’t mean the sluts you deal with! I mean
me
!” She held her hand to her chest. “I haven’t . . .
ugh
! Never mind.” She took a few steps,
but I grabbed her arm, turning her to face me.
    “You haven’t what?” Even in my current state, the answer came to me. “You’re a
virgin
?”
    “So what?” she said, blushing.
    “That’s why America was so sure it wouldn’t get too far.”
    “I had the same boyfriend all four years of high school. He was an aspiring Baptist youth minister! It never came up!”
    “A youth minister? What happened after all that hard-earned abstinence?”
    “He wanted to get married and stay in . . . Kansas. I didn’t.”
    I couldn’t believe what Abby was saying. She was almost nineteen, and still a virgin? That was almost unheard of these days. I couldn’t remember meeting one since the beginning of
high school.
    I held each side of her face. “A virgin. I would have never guessed, with the way you danced at the Red.”
    “Very funny,” she said, stomping up the stairs.
    I went after her but busted my ass on one of the steps. My elbow cracked against the corner of the concrete stair, but the pain never came. I rolled onto my back, laughing hysterically.
    “What are you doing? Get up!” Abby said as she tugged on me until I was upright.
    My eyes turned fuzzy, and then we were in Chaney’s class. Abby was sitting on his desk wearing something that looked like a prom dress, and I was in my boxer shorts. The room was empty,
and it was either dusk or dawn.
    “Going somewhere?” I asked, not particularly concerned that I wasn’t dressed.
    Abby smiled, reaching out to touch my face. “Nope. Not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”
    “You promise?” I asked, touching her knees. I spread her legs just enough to fit snugly between her thighs.
    “At the end of it all, I’m yours.”
    I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but Abby was all over me. Her lips traveled down my neck, and I closed my eyes, in a complete and total state of euphoria. Everything I had worked for
was happening. Her fingers traveled down my torso, and I sucked in a bit just as she slipped them between my boxers and settled on my junk.
    Whatever awesomeness I’d felt before, it had just been surpassed. I twisted my fingers in her hair, and pressed my lips against hers, wasting no time to caress the inside of her mouth with
my tongue.
    One of her heels fell to the floor, and I looked down.
    “I have to go,” Abby said, sad.
    “What? I thought you said you weren’t going anywhere.”
    Abby smiled. “Try harder.”
    “What?”
    “Try harder,” she echoed, touching my face.
    “Wait,” I said, not wanting it to end. “I love you, Pigeon.”
    My eyes blinked slowly. When my eyes focused, I recognized my ceiling fan. My body hurt everywhere, and my head was thumping with every beat of my heart.
    From somewhere down the hall, America’s excited, shrill voice filled my ears. In contrast, Shepley’s low voice was then peppered between America’s and Abby’s voices.
    I closed my eyes, falling into a deep depression. It was just a dream. None of that happiness was real. I rubbed my face, trying to produce enough motivation to drag my ass outta bed.
    Whatever party I’d crashed the night before, I hoped it was worth feeling like pulverized meat in the bottom of a trash can.
    My feet felt heavy as I dragged them across the floor to pick up a pair of jeans crumpled in the corner. I pulled them on, and then stumbled into the kitchen, recoiling at the sound of their
voices.
    “You guys are loud as fuck,” I said, buttoning my jeans.
    “Sorry,” Abby said, barely looking at me. No doubt I’d probably done something stupid to embarrass her the night before.
    “Who in the hell let me drink that much last night?”
    America’s face screwed into disgust. “You did. You went and bought a fifth after Abby left with Parker, and killed the whole thing by the time she got back.”
    Bits of memories came back to me in scrambled pieces. Abby left with Parker. I was depressed. Liquor store stop with America.
    “Damn,” I said, shaking my head. “Did you have fun?” I asked Abby.
    Her