Last Stop This Town (14 page)

Dylan’s cell phone was sitting on the couch in the suite at the Plaza, ringing with the ringtone version of Cake’s “Short Skirt/Long Jacket.” Unfortunately, there was no one there to answer it.

Next to the cell phone was Dylan’s shirt. On the floor, Noah’s jeans. Miniskirts and high heels led directly to the adjacent room where loud laughter and fun-sounding shrieks were coming from the bathroom.

Inside the master bathroom suite were Dylan, Noah, and all five girls
in the massive Jacuzzi bathtub
, laughing, drinking, and splashing around with the Jacuzzi jets blasting. A bottle of tequila rested precariously on the edge of the tub, and the iPod dock was pumping out some lame pop song the guys had never heard of.

The girls were in bras and panties, the guys in their boxers, and they were playing “Truth or Dare.” Up until this point, the dares had been fairly tame—Caitlin flashed her tits, Dylan did a rum shot out of Leah’s belly button—and the truths even tamer. But the girls were getting more and more wasted (especially Chelsea, whose eyes were starting to roll back), and they were ready to take the party to the next level.

Becky looked at Leah. “Your turn.”

Leah laughed. “Okay, okay. Dare.”

Faith quickly issued the challenge, “I dare you to go into the bedroom with Dylan.”

The girls all ooh’ed and giggled. Dylan raised an eyebrow to Noah. Whatever these girls needed to tell themselves to make it all okay was fine with him.

Leah looked at Dylan as she had been doing all night long, like a girl who knew what she wanted. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she giggled, as if there were any doubt.

More laughing. More splashing. Noah took a swig of tequila.

Leah stepped out of the bathtub, her wet underwear practically seethrough. She had a great body with only a hint of baby fat, and her ass glistened as the water ran off of it. She took Dylan by the hand and he got out as well. Leah escorted Dylan into the master bedroom amid the chorus of cheers from the other four girls.

And that left Noah in a sea of cute, wet, drunk girls.

The game continued. “Your turn, Chelsea,” Caitlin chirped. There didn’t seem to be any real order as to whose turn it was, and Noah wondered if the girls had somehow worked all this out between themselves without the guys knowing.

“Truth,” Chelsea said, as her eyes drooped. She was by far the most fucked up of the girls, and Noah made a mental note that no matter what happened he wouldn’t let her be alone in the bathtub. All he needed was a dead girl with a .28 blood alcohol content and a stomach full of pills to find its way onto his high school transcript. Chelsea was cute, with her curly black hair and six-pack abs, but you wouldn’t want to sell her life insurance. If she made it out of college alive, it’d be a miracle.

Faith bounced up and down, “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” She was the blonde with the large rack, and Noah couldn’t help watch her mesmerizing bosom heave under the thin layer of a black bra. She saw Noah staring and didn’t care. She just smiled and turned back to Chelsea, asking, “Have you ever videotaped yourself having sex?”

Noah laughed along with the other girls while Chelsea thought about it. She may have been unconscious—Noah wasn’t sure—but after a moment, her eyes opened and she said “yes” with a maniacal laugh.

The girls burst out laughing.

“Jesus,” Noah said, stunned.

Chelsea backtracked, slurring, “But wait, but wait. I can explain.” Then after an unintentionally dramatic pause, she did in fact explain, “I was drunk.”

The girls all burst out laughing again and Noah took another swig of tequila. He wondered if all the girls from the city or Long Island, or wherever they were from, were this nihilistic.

Becky, who Noah was starting to realize was the instigator of the group, turned to him and declared, “Okay, your turn.”

Noah was equal parts psyched to see where this was going and scared that these girls might turn on a dime and stab him in the eye with an ice pick. But he figured the only way something good was going to happen was to take a chance.

“Okay. Dare.”

The girls giggled.

Becky consulted her mental library of inter-gender bathtub dares and came up with, “I dare you to kiss Faith and Chelsea. At the same time.”

Noah smiled. This was
not
a problem.

Chelsea and Faith looked at Becky innocently, on the surface appearing as though this would somehow push them past their normal comfort level, but Noah wasn’t buying it. He could see these girls had obviously done shit like this before, and probably a lot worse.

Caitlin moved aside and Noah leaned over and kissed Faith on the lips. She was a good kisser, despite the taste of rum and coke and cigarettes. She stuck her tongue down his throat.

Chelsea waded over to him and jealously pulled his face away from Faith. Noah began French-kissing her and although she didn’t taste much better, something about the way she grabbed the hair on the back of his head convinced Noah she’d be incredible in bed. Maybe there
was
life after Sarah after all.

Feeling left out, Faith got back into Noah’s orbit and Noah began kissing them both at the same time. There was no way to do it other than full-on porno style, with their tongues lapping in mid-air. He glanced for a second at Becky who seemed really into watching, and Noah wondered if maybe she was into girls. Caitlin at least pretended to look away and took another drink of vodka. Noah’s mind drifted back to the matter at hand: He was currently making out with two incredible, wet, sexy girls. It was probably the hottest thing Noah had ever done, or would ever do, in his lifetime.

After a good two or three minutes of the three of them playing tongue judo with each other, Becky grew restless. “Okay, guys,” she interrupted, “I think your turn is up…” But Noah wasn’t going anywhere. Not as long as these two girls were still willing to suck face with him, and more importantly, each other.

“This is so exactly like last weekend,” Caitlin whispered to Becky, exasperated.

Noah smiled, his curiosity getting the best of him. He pulled away from the kiss just a fraction of an inch and gently asked, “What was last weekend?”

“Naomi Feldman’s bat mitzvah at the Waldorf,” Faith explained with a knowing look, obviously recalling some depraved incident.

But Becky flinched slightly and tried to cover by changing the subject. “Ooh, I love this song. Turn it up.”

Caitlin turned up the volume on the iPod dock and Noah now noticed that it was, in fact, Justin Bieber. He cocked his head.
Who listens
to Justin Bieber?
He played back the transcript in his mind and picked up on the slip-up.

Chelsea grabbed Noah’s face and tried to kiss him again but Noah stopped her. “Wait, what were you doing at a bat mitzvah?” he asked Faith accusingly. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen,” Faith lied.

That didn’t make any sense and Noah knew it. “
How old are you
?!” he repeated.

Faith lowered her head in shame. “Thirteen.” She looked at Becky guiltily, sorry for blowing it. Becky just rolled her eyes.

Noah, on the other hand, felt violated. “You said this was a graduation present!”

“Yeah. From junior high,” Caitlin admitted.

That’s all Noah needed to hear. He bolted out of the bathtub and searched frantically for a towel.

Becky tried to smooth things over. “Come on. Don’t go,” she pleaded. “We were having a good time.”

But Noah was livid. When you’re eighteen, a high school senior, and about to go off to college—Brown, no less—you don’t make out with eighth graders, no matter how hot, promiscuous, or degenerate they might be. It was just creepy.

Noah was desperately trying to get the hell out of there but the bathroom was a pig sty, with girls clothes strewn everywhere and makeup and hair products littering the counters. “Where the hell are my clothes?!”

In the elegantly appointed master bedroom, Dylan and Leah were making out under the sheets. He had long ago gotten her out of her wet bra and panties (she hadn’t raised any objections) and they were really getting into things.

Dylan didn’t need to ask if she was ready. He just reached for his jeans and pulled out a condom. Leah smiled and Dylan put it on under the sheets. But as he got on top of her, about to put it in, she suddenly looked surprised and said, “Wait, wait. Stop.”

Dylan froze.

“I can’t do that.”

“You can’t?” Dylan replied, confused. That was the
last
thing he’d expected to hear.

“I’m a vaginal virgin,” she admitted.

“A what?” he blurted out. He honestly had no idea what she was talking about.

“I’m waiting till marriage,” she explained.

“Seriously?”

This whole thing was getting weirder and weirder. Never in a million years would Dylan have guessed she was a virgin, let alone one waiting till marriage. Hell, Leah didn’t seem like she waited for a name.

But she reassured him. “Don’t worry. We can still do it.”

Now Dylan was totally baffled. “We can?”

She laughed. “Yeah, of course. Just not there.”

But before Dylan could confirm what “vaginal virgin” meant, Noah burst into the room.

“Ocupado!” Dylan barked.

But Noah was not leaving alone and he
was
leaving. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He threw Dylan’s pants at him. Leah pulled the covers up to her chin and the other girls watched the drama from the doorway.

Dylan was more than a little annoyed. “What the fuck? I’m busy, dude. Is this payback for the other night?”

Noah dropped the bombshell. “Dylan, these girls are thirteen.”

The proverbial record skipped.

Dylan, still on top of Leah in a sensual embrace, looked her in the eye. “You’re thirteen?” he asked, desperately hoping this was some sort of joke.

Leah looked over at her friends in the doorway, and Becky nodded toward Faith as the one who had blown it. Leah knew the jig was up.

She looked up at Dylan innocently and said, “No, but I will be next month.”

Twenty-three seconds later, Dylan and Noah were outside on Fifth Avenue, standing in front of the Plaza Hotel.

“I’ve got an idea.” Dylan suggested. “Let’s never mention this to anyone.”

Noah knew this was Dylan’s way of apologizing. He had pushed Noah into this fiasco every step of the way, and for once Noah felt vindicated. His Spidey-sense had been tingling and he should have trusted his instincts instead of listening to Dylan. But that was usually the nature of their relationship. Dylan knew it was hard to say no to him, and sometimes he abused that trust. Sure, he had wanted to make some memories this weekend, but this was not exactly what he was shooting for. So this was Dylan being contrite.

“That seems prudent,” Noah replied, rubbing it in his face a bit.

They just looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

All was forgiven.

A
S
D
YLAN AND
Noah walked down Fifth Avenue, Dylan dialed Pike’s cell phone to check in but there was no answer. Instead, the busboy from Hop Li Buffet Restaurant, in the alley on a cigarette break, pressed ignore and tucked Pike’s phone back into his shirt pocket.