Fifteen
There were women’s booties everywhere that I looked. In threadbare skirts that were knit crochets. In Daisy Dukes riding up their crotches. In skirts I would bet were originally used as headbands. The women were all draped on cars like in the magazines. Or in men’s laps like in p**n videos.
“Hey Crow.” A girl wearing a bright yellow bandanna over her a*s sauntered over. “Want a tune-up before you get behind the wheel?”
Christopher grinned at her. “I’m good. My girlfriend took care me this morning.”
The girl’s eyebrows rose. I turned redder than the candy apple convertible parked beside us. I didn’t know what shocked me most? That this girl publicly announced that she wanted s*x? That Christopher publicly announced that we’d been intimate this morning? Or that he called me his g
