ball since he lived in Beverly Hills.
One of the brothers knocked on the door and asked if we wanted to go for a swim. “I have a net for water volley,” he called. Dee opened the door and I think I actually saw her knees buckle. She’s all about the buttoned-up types and the brothers were prep on ‘roids. This one, Garth, was standing in the hallway dressed in his cute swim trunks, looking like a cross between Michelangelo’s David and that rapper Diggie Dawg—all ripped and tanned and bulge-y—and every one of us wanted to get into the water with that big smokin’ college boy. “Girls against guys,” he said, grinning.
We all have pools. We do not swim. Never. I mean, not since elementary school. But we dove at the chance to go swimming with Jinny’s fine brothers, and because Jinny didn’t wanna break the spell by letting us leave, she opened a drawer filled with these designer ‘kinis and tanks for us to borrow. Within ten minutes we were all in the pool playing volleyball. The thing is, it was fun. Old-time fun. Like the fun we used to have when we didn’t care what our hair looked like wet or if our tummies were poochie. The brothers, sexy as they seemed, didn’t flirt with us, and never said anything inappropriate. It was kind of comfortable.
After, we lay out on the teak chaises around the pool. The brothers disappeared pretty fast, which made everything way less interesting, and then this awkward thing happened. I mean…I guess I was staring at Jinny’s tits because I was so sure implants. Jinny caught me looking, and I wanted to die because she misunderstood and started acting itchy. I thought about admiring the tiny blue bows on her halter to deflect, but figured I’d just make it worse.
In the foyer we lined up to hug our new bestie and to tell her how much we already adored her—’cause that’s what chicas do. When I pressed against her, I faded a bit because her breasts are all too real.
Outside, before we split up to go into our houses, we stood in the darkening cul-de-sac. “That was awkward,” I said.
“You were staring at her boobs,” Zara said. “So yeah?”
“I was not,” I said.
“I literally watched you,” Zee said. “They’re real.”
“Whatever. She’s weird. We’re not really gonna do the AVB, are we, guys?” I said.
Brooky grinned. “We should. For a laugh. We could do it for a laugh.”
“Um?”
“I mean, why not?” Zee said.
“Because we don’t believe in the whole abstinence-before-marriage thing?”
“Who cares, though, Ror? In a way?” Dee said.
“Shouldn’t we care?”
“I don’t think it’s all that serious,” Brooky said. “You say what you say and then you do what you do.”
Made sense. Sort of.
“Think about it,” Brooky pressed. “Couture gowns and Jimmy Choos. Pics with Jagger Jonze. Think of the posts. Imagine the likes.”
True. Posting pics with celebrities, even minor celebrities, does prompt a lot of likes. I really really like likes. To be honest, we’re all kinda obsessed with our pics and our likes.
Fee shrugged. “Could be fun.”
“I guess.” I didn’t think it’d be fun exactly. Also, at that point, I didn’t think we’d end up going through with it.
My skin was flaking from the chlorine in Hutsalls’ pool, and my hair was frizzy and tangled, and my chest heavy with the realization that this whole AVB thing, and Jinny Hutsall, was gonna be the end of my hive as I knew it. I could see, even then, I was gonna have to buckle up.
When I got home, Shelley asked me what I thought of the new girl and if she was gonna make a good addition to the Hive. Um. Fine. Um. No.
I went up to my bedroom and straight to my side bedroom window, hoping Jinny was in her room so I could spy. She was. Jinny Hutsall was lying across her beautiful bed, staring up at the ceiling fan—nekked—with her little ‘kini balled up on the duvet beside her. Boring. Still, I wanted to look.
Then—and this was the weird part—she started talking. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I was like, who’s in there with her? All of a sudden she sits up and gets on her knees in the middle of the bed, and she raises her eyes to the ceiling and keeps, like, chatting in a conversational way, and waiting for a response, and then she’s saying more shit, and then waiting, and then she starts laughing