There is no underage sex anywhere in this story.
Also, thanks to all the readers who have reached out and become friends. For all those who have sent compliments, this story is for you!
Enjoy!
MJ
Chapter 1
Regarding Angela
Angela, Laura, and I were about to have our lives turned upside down. By men, of course. Faster than the streets flood in the French Quarter during a rain storm.
Angela, my best friend, was first. She called me on Sunday. I hadn't talked to her on Saturday, which was weird, because I talked to her every day. Or, I should say more accurately, mostly she talked to me. We don't call her The Mouth for nothing.
My name's Adrianna, my talents are that I'm really good at dieting to keep my body looking primo, hourglass voluptuous, and fit into my size 12, okay, oooocasionally sometimes size 14 clothes. I'm good at making the most of my hair, which is a gorgeous dark auburn and falls in thick waves three or four inches past my shoulders. And I'm good at singing. I kick ass at rock and roll, that's my real talent. That's good, because I'm pretty abysmal at just about everything else.
Don't ask me to change a tire or balance my checkbook or make a soufflé. Actually, don't ask me to make anything more complicated than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I'm a sandwich kind of girl.
I'm a good friend. A really good friend. I'm not sure that's a talent though.
My life is pretty simple. I focus on my music and my friends, and I never, ever expected that internet dating would put into motion the tangle of sex and danger that was barreling toward us.
Like everything in my life, Angela was bound to be in the middle of it all, and somehow also a catalyst.
Angela has two jobs. Angela works on an all talk radio internet station where she makes the most out of her mouthy talent. I mean I'm a talker but Angela is ridiculous. She's also funny, amazingly interesting, vivacious, talented, and, as I said, my best friend, so I'm very content to let her monopolize 95% of most of our conversations.
Besides, while she talks I do all my domestic chores, which, I can tell you, I'm as bad at as I am at car repair, basketball, and making soufflés. If it weren't for Angela my house would look like Hiroshima blew up in a junkyard.
Her other job is that she works part-time as a dispatcher at our local police station. It's a little out of character for her (except that she gets to talk and give orders). She got the job mostly because I bet her that she wouldn't do it.
Today, I was playing with my brand new golden retriever, when Angela called. I could tell it was her because the ring was a snippet of the old song "You're So Vain," by Carly Simon. I let it ring for an extra second while focusing on tug-of-war with Matchbox.
My puppy was a fluff ball that Angela unceremoniously dumped him in my lap last Tuesday, saying I desperately needed a dog for company since it had been so long since I'd had a man. I had named him Matchbox because he had let out a sharp happy snort when I accidentally dropped a toy car out of a cereal box.
Conveniently, I was wearing my cell phone on a clip on the waistband of my jeans. I stood up as I answered it.
"You'll never guess what happened," Angela said.
"Aliens landed and made you a blonde," I said. She has light-strawberry red-head, with straight hair so fine that she has to keep it short.
"No, guess again."
"Ah..." I plugged in my Bluetooth, which gave me both hands free to fold my laundry. It made me harder for her to hear me though. (Why is it no matter what brand of Bluetooth I use I sound like I'm muddled underwater? Do I just have bad headset karma?) "One of your shows got picked up an additional somewhere?"
She sighed, a loud, huge sigh. "No." Her initial euphoric bubble for a second but resurrected in record time. "Guess again."
I clicked my tongue against my teeth, thinking about her tone while separating shirts from socks from underwear. "You got laid?"
"YES!"
"Nooooo."
"Yes."
Now, one of Angela's shows gives advice about men. As a matter of fact it's called Don't Be Dumb. I have to tell you, she can give advice better than Dr. Ruth but she is the ultimate in do as I say but not as I do. It makes great entertainment for me and the gang though.
"Angelaaaaaahhh..." Ah, crap. If I wasn't careful I was going to sound like her mother.
"I know, I know, but this is different."
I should sound excited right about now, I thought. But I couldn't muster it. "Okay Angie, tell me," I said.
"Well, I met him on the internet," Angela said.
"Hhmn," I muttered. "Where?"
"Match.com."
"Okay."
"His name is Burt," Angela said.
Oh, gag, I thought.
"I know what you're thinking, 'Oh, gag me', right?" Angela said.
Busted.
"Right? You did, right?" Angela said. "But that is the only thing that isn't amazing about him. He's gorgeous. I'm talking Hollywood leading man gorgeous. He emailed me on Friday and his emails were so sweet and poetic. Then I gave him my phone number and he texted me for an hour straight and those were so clever I had to meet him right away. He took me out to Le Chic downtown for dinner and we talked until it closed and then we went back to my place."
Ut-oh.
"Which you are probably thinking is a big ut-oh, but I knew it was okay because I promised you I wouldn't do anything on the first date. We talked until 6 am straight about everything and anything," Angela said.
"Um-hum," I said. I had sorted all my laundry into piles by category and now I began to fold and hang. I hate doing laundry. I only do laundry when I'm on the phone with Angela because it makes the task more bearable for me.
I just remembered one other thing I'm good at. I'm good at avoiding commitment. Reeeeally good at it. Like big time. That might be my biggest talent of all.
In my mind I could see Angela pacing her small efficiency apartment waving her hands around.
"And then from about 6am to 7:30am we just snuggled on the couch and held each other. Adriana, it was so magical. It was just the most magical thing you could possibly imagine."
"Mmn-hmn," I said.
Angela always talks very fast. It's probably the only thing about her that isn't Louisiana. As she gets animated she begins to talk faster and faster. If she started talking any faster I was going to have to ask her to slow down.
"So then we watched the sun come up through that tiny stained glass window above my kitchenette. We just, you know, breathed together and watched the light in total silence. Then I kicked his behind out the door just like you'd have wanted me to." She paused.
"Aaaah-hmmn," I said.
"Because we agreed, after the last two guys..."
"Five," I interrupted.