“No more of this talk, not tonight.” Stella reached across the table and scooped up the bottle of Patron. She brought it to her lips and drank the tequila straight. Smiling, she placed it back on the table in front of me. “Your turn, Pip.”
“Now you’re trying to getmedrunk? A seasoned alcoholic?” I grinned, picked up the bottle, and drank, too, the familiar warmth easing down my throat. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.
“We’re going to play a game,” Stella said, a mischievous curl at the edge of her lips. She moved our plates aside. “We need to separate our laundry. Colors will go here.” She slid her gloves to the right side of the table. “Whites over there, near you. The game is calledNever haveI ever.”
I chuckled. “I’ve played that, in like fifth grade.”
“You’ve never played with me.”
I was beginning to like where this was going. I straightened up in my chair.
Stella placed the bottle of tequila between us. “You’ve played, so you’re familiar with the rules. I’ll start with something like, ‘never have I ever eaten french fries.’ If you have eaten french fries, you’ll have two choices: you can either drink, or deposit an article of clothing on the table.”
Using my foot, I pulled my backpack close.
Stella shook her head. “The clothing in our bags will be off limits for the duration of this game.”
I tried to keep a poker face, but judging by the smile on Stella, I wasn’t doing a very good job.
She folded both hands on the table. “Never have I ever ridden a bicycle.”
“Seriously?”
“I wanted one when I was younger, particularly after seeing yours, but Ms. Oliver was afraid I might fall and hurt myself. Doctors were…problematic…for me. Hospitals were out of the question, so she was very protective of everything I did. If injury was a possibility, the activity was ruled out.”
I couldn’t imagine growing up without a bike as a kid. Not having the freedom those two wheels granted, or the fun of riding.
Stella cleared her throat and nodded at the bottle. “I believe you are required to drink or provide an article of clothing to our laundry pile.”
I smiled, took the bottle, and drank.
“Chicken,” she said.
“I’m just trying to catch up. I’ve never had a woman outdrink me before.”
“Prepared to be schooled, good sir. Your turn.”
I thought about my response for a second. “Never have I ever lived in a house with a pool.”
“I liked the pool,” Stella said, before crossing her arms and pulling her white tank top over her head and starting our pile of whites. Then she settled back into her chair, wearing only her shoes, jeans, and a white bra. The flickering candlelight bounced across her toned skin.
I reached for the bottle and took a drink. My God, she was beautiful.
“Eyes front, Pip,” Stella said. “Shall we continue?”
I nodded.
“Never have I ever had real friends my own age to play with.”
“None? What did you do all day?”
“I read, of course. I’ve read so many books. Ms. Oliver and I would sometimes play cards or board games. When I was younger, around five or six, they tried to find me a friend. They brought a girl in to play with me. I remember Ms. Oliver dressed me in long sleeves and my longest pair of gloves. Her name was Rebecca. We played for nearly an hour, with Ms. Oliver and at least four others hovering over us. I didn’t understand what I could do back then, I was too young. They watched us closely at first, but I think minds began to wander. Nobody saw Rebecca reach for my cheek. She only wanted to brush away a piece of lint or something. Things happened so fast. When she cried out, they snatched her away. I don’t know what happened to her after that. They told me she was the daughter of one of our cooks, but I suspect she had been kidnapped.” Stella nodded at the bottle. “I believe you did have friends, so you need to choose.”
I took off my University of Connecticut sweatshirt. I had never been to Connecticut. I picked it up at a thrift store years ago. Dark blue. It went in our colors pile.
It didn’t take long before we were both in our underwear. Stella insisted that because her pair of gloves had started the game, things like shoes and socks had to come off in pairs, too.
My hand inched closer to hers on the table, but we dared not touch.
