Eleanor: Yeah, baby! Winner winner! I know good dick timeline.
Millie: Dammit. I was so close. I just needed one more hour.
Samantha: I think I speak for everyone, Margot, when I say, “Sooooo????? How was it?”
I glance out of the bedroom windows. They really do have the best view of the property. It’s a straight shot to the beach from the bed. I let out a very relaxed exhale, still smiling, before my fingers fly over the keys, knowing that once I say what I’m going to say, this chat will never shut up.
But that means I finally get to do something I’ve never been able to do—tell my friends about all the good sex I’ve had.
Me: Where do I even start? I’m still overwhelmed by just the memory.
Millie: Are they huge? Good? Are you sore? Was it what you wanted?
Eleanor: Who was the best kisser? Who’s the top? Are they all switches?
I laugh at all the questions for me to answer. This life timeline I’m on is wild. I went from lame and boring to having “temporary” boyfriends who have boyfriends. I’m living the dream. Literally the dream.
Me: They’re perfectly sized. Incredible kissers. But there was a standout dick…
I see bubbles because I know they’re waiting for me to finish that sentence.
Me: Wells is pierced.
More bubbles as I squeeze my eyes shut, kicking my feet for a second, celebrating the greatness of this moment. “Oh my god,” I breathe out as my phone erupts with text after text.
Eleanor: STFU. Can you feel it?
Eleanor: Was it better than normal dick?
Eleanor: I’m making Crew get it done.
Millie: How does this just keep getting better?
Millie: You have impeccable karma.
Millie: What’s your rising sign? What’s your sign?
Moon: Wells? No way. Wells! What kind?
Moon: Did you think he had a disease at first?
I laugh loudly because she knows me far too well.
Samantha: We’re dying for details…go! I have a meeting in like thirty minutes. I beg you. Feed us.
They’re going to have to wait because I have to pee, so I put my phone down, hearing it ding some more, before I handle my business, wash my hands, then snuggle back into bed.
I’m about to go on about the whole night, but I’m frozen as I stare down at my phone because the incoming messages weren’t from the girls.
It’s from a different group chat.
Wells: Morning, Cherry.
Brooks: You better have dreamt about me, Stunner.
Brody: Breakfast comes to you this morning. Because you have homework.
Homework? I frown. What is he talking about? No sooner do I think it than there’s a knock at the bedroom door. Well, I know it’s not them because Wells would never knock. Or he would, and I wouldn’t hear it.
