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get the door shut and Krista is launching an inquisition on me. “Holy shit, Kris . . . give me a second. Let me call my mom and let her know we are going to be a few minutes late.”
    “Why? We will make it home in time.”
    “Because you are about to pull your ass over so I can have a cigarette.” We have one rule . . . we don’t smoke in our cars. No exceptions.
    “All hot and bothered are we, Pais?” she taunts me.
    “Whatever, bitch. You are the one who smells like sex.”
    “What does that even mean? Does sex have an odor?”
    “Yes, and it is spelled K-R-I-S-T-A!” We both howl with laughter, I call my mom and tell her I have to pee, and we are on the road so she lets me slide with a “No more than fifteen minutes late, Paisley,” warning.
    Krista pulls over into a parking lot, and I am out of the car with lighter and cigarette in hand. She doesn’t smoke . . . cigarettes. She is my little pothead. I will smoke occasionally, but not like her.
    “Spill it sista. How did you go from avoiding him like he had the bubonic plague to face raping him in the span of . . .?”
    “Five hours? Time slips away from you when you are on your back having monkey sex.”
    “No animals were involved, and don’t change the subject.”
    “I don’t know, Krista. I said something about shitting or getting off the pot, then it was on like Donkey Kong.”
    “You told him that? Girl, the way he has watched you every time you are around that was like waving the red flag in front of a bull. Explain to me why, Paisley?”
    “I can’t explain it. I don’t know how or why, I just know it felt right. He drives me crazy with his ass-holism, but he sets me on edge at the same time. How fucked up is that?”
    “Pretty fucked up.” She is serious and doesn’t seem to like the thoughts she is having. She hesitates and won’t meet my eyes. “Be careful.” Almost like she is warning me.
    “What? What do you know that I don’t, Kris?” Oh God, what if he has a wife back home waiting for him? I am a mistress. Wait, no don’t you have to have sex to be a mistress?
    “Calm down, Pais I’m just saying, be careful. You don’t have the experience he has, hell that I have. You aren’t jaded, or tarnished, and I don’t want that for you.”
    “It was a kiss. Or several. I didn’t pledge my undying love and take him to have and to hold.”
    “You aren’t a prude, but you aren’t a risk taker. You think everything through, whether you realize it or not. You don’t make out with random guys . . . you aren’t a normal teenager. So all I am saying is if you took that leap with him, there is a reason and no matter what that reason is, be careful.”
    “I don’t make out with random guys because no guy has shown an interest.” I clearly point out the obvious to her, in which she laughs at me. Full on laughing with tears running down her cheeks . . . and here comes the snorting. “Please share with the class, Krista, what is so funny?”
    She holds up her finger signaling for me to give her a minute, and I am about to put my foot so far up her ass she will speak Skecher. Finally, she is under control, until she sees me so pissed off and starts all over again. I light another cigarette and wait, yet again.
    “You honestly believe no guy is interested in you? Have you seen a mirror? Paisley, you are fucking beautiful. You have this aura of not being interested, and they are scared to fucking death of you. Boys don’t like rejection. You are clueless.”
    “Are you done with the compliments? I don’t think I can take much more.”
    “Get in the car, and think about it.”
    “Is your description a nice way of calling me a closed-off bitch?”
    “Nope, if I thought you were a closed off bitch I would tell you. I just think you are above a lot of the petty high school stuff. Boys aren’t your thing, you have this calm about you . . . wise beyond your years is what your mom says. I don’t know how to explain it, but you