Bad For You

eight

"What's up with you today?" Hannah shoots me a sidelong glance while flipping through the racks at Roxanne's Thrifts. It was a cold but sunny Saturday afternoon and true to her word Hannah had picked me up so we could go shopping for denim.

"What do you mean?" I ask in confusion.

"I mean you've been acting like the main character in a Disney princess movie. Humming, dancing, singing spontaneously," she pulls out a shirt and tosses it into our already overflowing shopping cart. While we had initially come for jeans, it had turned into a full fledged shopping trip.

"Have I?" Even as I ask it I'm smiling, but in an effort to disprove Hannah's accusation I try and tone it down.

"Yes," Hannah says in exasperation. "And don't think just because I haven't brought it up I forgot last night. You were supposed to text Theo."

My face physically hurts from the effort it takes me to withhold from breaking into an ear splitting grin. "I did."

Hannah stops long enough to give me an impatient look. "Well? What happened?"

"We talked."

Hannah rolls her eyes. "No shit. But what did you talk about?"

"Just about our worst fears and stuff."

"That sounds depressing."

It was.

"Was there anything else?" She presses. When I press my lips together her eyes widen.

"There was! Tell me right now! Don't make me force it out of you. I'm not against using violence if necessary."

I laugh. "Alright, chill." Looking around, I make sure no one is lurking nearby before lowering my voice. "We had phone sex."

"What?!" Hannah screeches and I immediately shush her.

"Would you keep your voice down?" I hiss.

"I'm sorry, I thought I just misheard you. It sounded like you said you had phone sex," she whisper yells.

I suck in my lips and smile. "Yes. That's what I just said."

Hannah gapes at me.

Something catches my eye and I turn, pulling out a long sleeved colorblock tie front top. "Oh. This is cute."

"Don't try and change the subject!" Hannah yanks the top from my hand and throws it in the cart. "Tell me everything. Right now."

"Well..." I go into a PG13 version of last nights events, with Hannah interjecting every other sentence with gasps, wide eyes, and commentary.

"I can't believe it," Hannah sniffles. "Your first real sexual experience. I feel like a proud mom."

I scoff. "Shut up. Don't act like you've got loads of experience under your belt."

"I don't. I'm now living vicariously though you."

"Trust me, you do not want to live my life."