Ann DeFee - Summer After Summer

Charlie and Bucky were not amused. When I finally got myself under control and glanced up, they were standing over us like a couple of condescending guardian angels.

I still can’t believe I reverted to a grade-school mentality, but I did with a vengeance. I stuck out my tongue and came up with the pithiest comment I could, considering I had a beer-soaked brain.

“And a nanny, nanny, pooh, pooh to you, too.”

It was immature and stupid; however, I did get in the last word.

So there!

“Oh, my God! I’m dying.” My head was in the toilet so I wasn’t sure anyone heard me. “I’m puking my guts out,” I wailed.

“Here,” Bunny said, handing me a bottle of Coke. “This’ll make you feel better.”

“Nothing will make me feel better.” At least nothing short of a permanent adios, and I wasn’t ready for that. I flopped on the cold linoleum floor. “Why are you so perky?”

Her answering smile was enough to make me want to deck her.

“I didn’t drink that much.”

“Yeah, well.” I was on the verge of coming up with a great answer, really I was, but my brain short-circuited when my tummy did another barrel roll.

“You’d better get well, PDQ. If you back out on going to the party, you’re dead meat,” Bunny threatened.

“Yew!” Why did she have to mention dead meat? Or any kind of meat, for that matter?

It took a six-pack of Cokes and a sleeve of Saltines before I truly thought I could make it through the day. Now I was at Bunny’s house doing what I did best—providing cover for my friend.

“You know your sneaking around is gonna to get us both in trouble,” I griped as Bunny searched the bottom of her closet. “If your parents catch you going out with Charlie when they specifically told you not to, you’ll be grounded for life. And if by some miracle you get out of the house before you’re twenty-one, they’ll never let you see me again.”

Bunny seemed oblivious to my complaints as she continued to look for something. When that girl got focused on a goal, she got focused. And her single-mindedness always seemed to get me in trouble.

“Here it is,” she crowed triumphantly, holding up a Scarlett O’Hara corset, minus the laces.

“What do you mean, here it is?” I was lounging on the bed getting a really bad feeling about this. But I consoled myself with the fact that I was bigger than she was, and I could overpower her if push came to shove.

“I found this in my mother’s closet.” She waved the offending piece of lingerie in my direction. “I know, I know. You don’t wear a bra. But for tonight, you’re gonna be the sex goddess of south Texas. We’re doing a makeover.”

“Like hell,” I snorted. “You’re not about to get me into that thing. It couldn’t be more than a size two and I’m a ten.”

“Size is not a problem. And yes, you are going to wear it. Since we’re leaving from here, you won’t have to sneak past the Baptist brigade.”

She was referring to my parents—pillars of the Baptist church and ardent opponents of anything that smacked of sexy.

“So get this on while I find the dress I have in mind. Just you wait till I get you all dolled up!” She tossed the instrument of torture at me.

Did Bunny really believe I’d strip down and put that thing on? “No way. I’m perfectly happy in my current state.” Unfortunately, my resolve wasn’t nearly as tough as Bunny’s, and eventually I capitulated. Darn it! I needed to work on my backbone.

“Hold your breath. I’ve almost got the hooks done up.” She was pulling and tugging to fasten me into the Merry Widow.

Poor, poor Scarlett. I suspect the infamous Southern belle was a bitch because her corset had restricted the flow of blood to her brain.

“Stay right there while I get this sundress on you,” Bunny instructed, holding up an emerald-green, low-cut dress with spaghetti straps. After she waved the little scrap of material, she turned me away from the mirror.

“I can’t wear your clothes. I’m at least eight inches taller than you are, and I’m at least twenty pounds heavier.”

Now that was something I hated to admit.

“Exactly,” Bunny said smugly as she yanked the dress over my head and somehow managed to get it zipped. She put her hands on her hips and circled me.

“Don’t you dare look in the mirror,” she admonished as she grabbed the stool from her tulle-covered vanity. “Sit there.” She pointed at the bench. “I’m going to do your hair and makeup.”

After she finished working her magic, she stepped back to admire her creation. At best, I usually gave the makeup process a lick and a promise. A little powder, a swipe of mascara and a dab of lipstick, and I called it good. Not tonight.

I could subdue her, I thought as I sat in a fragrant cloud of Aqua Net and Estée Lauder awaiting the verdict. Bunny walked around me humming some inane tune.

“You are gorgeous! Absolutely fan-tab-u-lous. I’ve outdone myself this time.” She broke into an immense smile and turned me around to check my appearance in her cheval mirror.

“Holy cow! I’ve got boobs.” Did I ever! They were falling out of the top of the dress for God and everyone to see. As short as the skirt was, it looked like my legs went on forever.

The problem was that Bunny’s little dress barely covered the essentials. I didn’t know whether to pull it up or pull it down. As for the rest of it, Bunny was right. I was gorgeous. Could I possibly be a swan?

“Your parents would have a cow if they could see you. You are one bitchin’ chick!” Bunny exclaimed.

She was right. Mama and Daddy would stroke out if they set eyes on me. I loved them dearly, really I did, but being a good girl was tiresome sometimes. I sympathized wholeheartedly with all the preachers’ kids I knew. Living in a fishbowl was hell.

“It shouldn’t take long for your transformation to hit the grapevine.” Bunny giggled, then went into her Captain Bligh impersonation. “Don’t touch a hair on your head. I’ll get dressed and we’ll get rolling.”

When Bunny was right, she was right. Being a foxy mama was quite a high. What was Charlie going to say? And why did I care? Could it be because I was obsessed with someone I couldn’t have?

Conversation ceased when we walked into the party. Guys I’d known since kindergarten stared at me, their mouths hanging open. Pretty cool, huh?

I was reveling in my new state of glamour when Charlie showed up.

“Hey, Sunshine. You’re looking mighty good,” he said, putting his arm around Bunny’s waist. It wasn’t a bad reaction, but it wasn’t especially good, either. What did I think he was going to do, ditch Bunny and declare his undying love for me?

Get real.

I’d driven to the party with Bunny, so I hoped I wouldn’t have to hitch a ride home. That was getting old. And seeing her with Charlie was even more depressing.

“Jazzy, I’m glad you came. I’ve been waiting for you.” Petey grabbed my hand and pulled me across the room. He was the only guy who was immune to my new attractions. The whole sexy thing was fun, but normalcy was good, too.

“I’ve got someone I want you to meet. My cousin is here from Dallas. I told you about him, remember?” Petey kept tugging on my hand. I could have easily pulled him to a halt, but everyone was staring. So I went into docile mode and followed him.

Petey halted in front of the most gorgeous guy I’d ever clapped eyes on. This person was related to Petey— band-geek Petey?

The hunk had dark hair and ice-blue eyes. Oh, wow, was that a deadly combo.

“Jazzy, this is my cousin Clint Whitworth. Clint’s going to be a sophomore at Southern Methodist.”