39. We wowed them with our bondage kit and strap-on.

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Teddy

I FEEL THE CAR SLOW IN SPEED, turn, and then stop. The engine is killed, doors are opened, and we're being pulled outside. Still, our blindfolds remain.

"Ladies," the haughty voice says a few feet in front of me. "Part one is now complete. We are at our final destination, the spot of part two. Now is your chance to either bail or continue."

"Bail?" Rylie asks, the shock evident in her voice. "No way. This is the best night of my life. I can't wait to find out what comes next."

When I hesitate to respond, the voice urges, "Miss Pierson?"

"I feel like maybe I didn't perform up to your standards in part one, which makes me feel like maybe I don't belong," I begin, then pause to gather my thoughts. "But I did what you asked. I answered honestly. So if I don't fit whatever mold you're looking for, then I'd rather not continue on. I can't be anyone other than myself."

"Miss Pierson, you passed with flying colors. There is no mold. It would be a boring book club if we all thought the same things. We need differing opinions to keep things interesting."

Someone claps. "Ok, are we doing this then?"

"Miss Pierson?" the haughty voice asks.

"Yes," I answer. "We're doing this."

They whoop. I get a whoop!

I'm given no time to celebrate; hands are dragging me forward and suddenly I'm ushered inside a building. It smells weird. Like there's a bunch of conflicting scents comingling. The effect causes me to scrunch up my nose.

"Shit," Rylie whispers next to me. "No way. Are we where I think we are?"

"Where do you think we are?" I mumble quietly.

"If I've smelled one adult bookstore, I've smelled them all. So if my nose isn't lying, we are most definitely in a porn shop."

"What?" I ask, laughing. "Of course we are."

Suddenly, the blindfolds are ripped off and my eyeballs are assaulted with bright, fluorescent lights. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. When I do, I see my friend is right. We are indeed in an adult bookstore.

"So," the haughty voice from earlier interrupts my perusal. I turn toward it, confirming my suspicions that the voice belongs to Marg. Today she is dressed in a bright orange dress with objects in every color stamped all over it. Wait, are those penises? Is that a penis dress?

"Marg," Rylie drawls. "You've outdone yourself with that dress. Nice penises. So lifelike too."

Marg wipes a hand down the dress, inadvertently—or perhaps intentionally—fondling the penises. "Thank you, Miss Foss. This is one of my official club uniforms. Quite possibly my favorite."

There are more? Do the others have vaginas or boobs or butts? I'm so invested in the discovery of the other dresses now. I must pass part two if only to lay eyes on all of Marg's spectacular club uniforms. I giggle covertly behind my hand when I remember that Jensen wanted me to wear one of Marg's dresses with his face all over it.

"It is time for part two," Marg says, clapping a few times as if to get the club back on track. "For this, you have five minutes to scavenge the store to assemble an end of the world survival kit."

Rylie and I look at each other and burst into laughter.

My mom holds up her phone with a stopwatch counting down the time. "You just wasted 30 seconds," she announces, her face a perfect mask of seriousness.

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