A List of Cages(32)

Adam grins and whispers in Stef’s ear. She blushes again and keeps trying to control her hair. Their performance is really funny, and I find myself laughing along with the rest of the class. If this is what school is like for him, I can see why he likes it.

When the timer goes off, Adam grabs Stef’s hand and pulls her into a bow. He looks happy. Not acting nice or feeling sorry, but genuinely happy, as if he likes her as much as he likes everyone else.





IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT and we’re all piled into Jesse’s living room. Suggesting The Game was totally strategic on my part—any excuse to turn off that music no one can dance to.

“Okay…Jesse,” Charlie says, looking at him in a way that makes him fidget. “I want you to lick Camila’s…” He pauses, and Jesse grins nervously. “…purse.”

Disappointment falls over his face. “Seriously?” We all watched the documentary in Ms. Fry’s class this week claiming purses are dirtier than toilets. “But I might get sick.”

Charlie smirks. “Do it anyway.”

After a lot of harassment from everyone, Jesse gives in, revolted, then chugs his beer as if the alcohol will sanitize his tongue.

“My turn,” Camila says, sticking out her chest and tossing back her dark hair.

“How’s it your turn?” Jesse protests. “I’m the one who had to—”

“I just had to sit back and watch someone rub their disgusting mouth all over my purse.” Jesse looks hurt. “Definitely my turn.”

She points a sharp red fingernail at me. “Question.” Seeing my naked ass must be losing its appeal, because lately, instead of giving me dares, my friends’ve been making me answer questions. I think they’re hoping that eventually something will embarrass me, but it hasn’t happened yet. “Describe the first time you got naked with a girl. In detail.”

“Okay,” I say. “I was in kindergarten.”

“No. Doesn’t count if your mom put you in the bathtub together.”

“No, this counts. It was in a sexual context.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But it counts. So, okay, her name was Charlotte.”

“Charlotte King?” Allison asks.

“Yeah.”

“We were in Brownies together,” Natalie adds.

“Can we get back on track?” Camila’s glare silences the room.

“Okay,” I say. “Charlotte and I were the only two kids who took the van from school to our day care. We’d sit in the very back row where the driver couldn’t see us, and play this game where basically you could ask to see any body part you wanted. I’d ask to see her vagina. She’d ask to see my feet.”

Everyone bursts out laughing, so I have to explain that this was an actual problem. I wasn’t great at tying my shoelaces—I used to have coordination issues—so getting my shoes and socks on and off was freakin exhausting. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if seeing her vagina was worth all the trouble.

“Oh my god.” Charlie cackles. “I bet she’s totally still into feet. She’s probably one of those girls who likes to suck toes.”

“That doesn’t count,” Camila says, and I’d say she’s pouting, only I don’t usually find pouty faces intimidating.

“There was the time I got a massage,” I say. Charlie shoots me a dark look that means shut up, and then pretty much everyone says that definitely doesn’t count. “Well, that’s all I’ve got.” There’s a moment of silence after I’ve basically announced my virginity to the entire room.

“But what about Kelly?” Emerald asks, blue eyes really intense all of a sudden.

Kelly’s another girl who left town shortly after being intimate with me. “It never got that far.”

“But she took off her purity ring.”

During sophomore year Kelly and I got as far as no shirts, but me touching her bra-covered boob filled her with so much shame that she tore off her ring and said she wasn’t fit to wear it. Guilt-fueled nausea is not the expression you want to see on a girl after you inquisitively squeeze her nipple.

“I’ve answered the question,” I say, because it’s not really my secret to tell. “Now my turn.” I aim a devious smile at Charlie, and he cringes.

“Oh God.”


It’s two in the morning when I head out to my van. “Can I get a ride?” Camila calls out. I turn around. Her eyes are gleaming in the dark like a panther’s.

“Where’s Matt?”

Her four-inch heels clack down the long driveway. Everything’s curvy and bouncing.

“He left me behind.” She makes another one of those scary pouts, and I feel sorry for her brother.

“Okay, sure.” We hop in the van, then I glance in the rearview mirror. “Damn, we’re blocked in. Let me see if Sean can move his car.”

“Wait.” She grabs my arm.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly her lips are smashing against mine, while she tangles her hand into my hair and tugs. “Ow.”

For some reason she takes this as a sign to pull my hair again and kiss me even harder. It’s not exactly surprising that she kisses with as much aggression as she does everything else, but it’s more painful than hot—at first, anyway. After a few minutes of fingernails and biting mouths, we’re both panting.