AnimeCon Harem Bonus: Marino's Pizza (Patreon)

   “We’re definitely gonna havta eat out on the sidewalk!” Melanie laughed, glancing around and seeing that not a single table had become free since they entered. Parties of con-goers had already staked their claims on every last window booth as well.

   The cheerful dark-haired teen still felt supercharged with bright green energy, and she was nearly dancing in place as they stepped forward again to keep pace with the line. Melanie didn’t mind eating outside at all—it’d be cool! A little picnic, right there on the city sidewalk where they could watch all the people going by. So many situations in this AnimeCon weekend seemed exaggerated, crazy, the various events feeling larger than life. She was having an awesome time, and she’d be telling crazy unbelievable stories about this trip for years to come!

   “Nah,” Foxy grinned. “I already know which booth’s gonna be ours.”

   “Oh,” Melanie blinked, looking around again. Rather than feeling disappointed, having their own sorta private area to eat in sounded neat, too. Doesn’t look like anyone’s ready to leave, though…?

   That was okay with her though, because Foxy sounded pretty sure. Another small gust of the most delicious-smelling pizza she’d ever smelled rippled through the air, and Melanie almost swooned. She eagerly swished her butt back and forth, accidentally clipping into that Mary girl again. Ohmigod—I want all of that pizza, in my mouth, right now.

   “Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?” Mary frowned in annoyance, leaning further into Foxy.

   “Nope!” Melanie answered with a somewhat embarrassed smile, struggling and failing to still herself. “Ehehehe, I’m just always like this. Hyper, you know? Excited!”

   “We’d better not let her have any soda, or she’ll be all hopped up on sugar all night,” Synn teasingly let out an exasperated sigh. The black girl put her hands on her hips and gave Foxy a stern look.

   “Well… it is a special occasion…” Foxy effortlessly fell into the role of a doting father.

   “Hahaha,” Melanie’s grin started to falter. “Wait, you guys’re just kidding, right?”

   They obviously weren’t really her parents, but if either Synn or Foxy was paying—then damn, they might as well have been. She really wanted an ice-cold soft drink to go with the pizza they were going to have—she was totally craving something sweet and fizzy to tickle her nose with carbonation.

   “Are you gonna be the one to deal with her later, when she’s bouncing off the walls?” Synn was way too good at imitating a stern mother, and Melanie’s smile brightened again.

   “Of course!” Foxy pivoted, turning Mary away from Melanie so that he could have an arm around each of the two girls. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’tcha, honey?”

   “Yeah!” Melanie lied with a chipper smile, putting an arm around behind Foxy. “I’m always good!”

   “I’m not related to any of you,” Mary glowered at their antics. “You’re all too weird.”

   “None of that lip from you now—you girls both behave,” Synn warned in her surprisingly convincing voice. After another moment, she broke character, relaxing her face into an amused expression.

   “Spankings for Mary!” Melanie gleefully suggested.

   “Spankings for Mary!” Foxy agreed, nodding seriously.

   “What?! No,” Mary looked mortified, but to Melanie’s relief, there was the ghost of a smile before the girl stubbornly buried it beneath another scowl. “You’re not allowed to play favorites.”

   Spankings for everyone, please! Melanie barely—just barely stopped herself from blurting it out loud, and she had to hang onto Foxy for support as she doubled over with laughter. She was having a blast with all the playful innuendo shooting back and forth, and it felt like there were actual real sexual undertones to everything said, too!

   Mary was clearly intent on only Foxy, while Foxy was just as openly interested in each one of them. Melanie felt the same way, and would’ve immediately been down for dropping all pretense and freely touching and exploring each other. In fact, her green tingly jitters were travelling up and down her body in anticipation of exactly that!

   As much as she was oddly hyped up for impassioned pleasures of the flesh, however, Melanie was trying really, really hard to keep it all reigned in. This time. She’d dropped a hint for Synn in their very first conversation with trademark Melanie subtlety—expressing interest in the girl amidst a chatterbox barrage of other comments and questions—but she’d yet to see any sort of response to that from her.

   Making out with the beautiful black girl, maybe even getting a little handsy sounded incredible, but... not cool at all if the expense of bringing it up made her uncomfortable, turning things weird and losing her as a friend somehow. She’s like, my AnimeCon bestie already! I just love her to bits!

   And Mary seems barely able to even tolerate me, Melanie thought, sighing inwardly and feeling her spirits dim a little bit. I just want her to lighten up and really enjoy all of this, like the rest of us are!

   “Oi—what the hell is this?” Foxy laughed, turning to address one of the booths their section of the line was now standing in front of. “You fattasses gonna just hog your damn table all day?”

   The booth contained three giant biker gang outlaws, each turning hostile looks in their direction, and Melanie found herself taken aback by Foxy’s unexpected outburst. They obviously weren’t a real biker gang—their getups were reminiscent of wasteland raiders from eighties anime Fist of the Seventh Scar, complete with spiked shoulder pads and black grease paint messily smeared across the upper halves of their faces.

   “Hah,” the largest one spat. His head was shaved down to stubble, and he wore a mottled brown fur collar that looked to have come from roadkill between his shoulder pieces. “Krieg, put this clown through a window, would ya?”

   Krieg, a hooligan sporting a green mohawk, straightened up to full height and slid out of the booth, revealing a tall and lanky figure in partial riding leathers, bare chest covered by iron chain fashioned into makeshift suspenders. He lunged forward, throwing a hand out—to catch Foxy’s hand in what Mel thought of as a homie handshake, clasping hands normally, switching to an upper grip where the two hooked thumbs, and then quickly pulling away to fist-bump each other.

   “Oh. Ohhhh!” Melanie blinked in surprise, grinning from ear to ear. Rather than shoving out of their booth and spoiling for a fight, the other punkish gang members were now cleaning up their table, tossing crumpled napkins and straw wrappers into their grease-stained pizza box and politely piling their plates.

   “Missed you at cosplay dodgeball, man,” Krieg laughed, eyeing the girls standing beside Foxy suspicion. “Where the fuck were you off to?”

   “Had to cover for my boy Nick and judge for the cosplay contest,” Foxy shrugged. “Krieg, Tetsu, Ace—meet Melaneko, Mare, and Synn.”

   “Hiiii!”

   “Sup, ladies.”

   “Hello.”

   “Damn, Foxy.”

   “Nice ta meetcha.”

   “My name isn’t fucking Mare.”

   “What a coincidence,” that largest one—ostensibly Ace—barked. “You judge the contest, and one o’ your pals here winds up wit’ a trophy. Haha, what are the odds?”

   “Well, she was the stone cold badass in pre-judging, how the hell was I gonna say no to that?” Foxy asked with a smirk. “Rest of the contestants were the usual lineup of cos-thots. Hell, Melaneko here flashed her goods to the entire crowd when she went up on stage.”

   “No shit?” Ace turned to regard Melanie with new interest.

   “I did. My top came off,” Melanie felt her face go red. “Haha, it was totally an accident, though!”

   “Sounds like no accident to me,” the third biker Tetsu growled, gaze lingering on Melanie’s bustline. He was a seedy-looking guy with muscles bursting out of a low-cut vest, and spoke in a surprisingly deep, gruff voice. “Seems to me like that’d be... providence! Divine intervention, answering heartfelt prayers! There’s no way something that awesome’d be left to accident. Am I right?”

   “Amen, brotha!” Krieg laughed, taking the empty pizza box and drink cups from Ace as they finished clearing the table. “You ladies comin’ to the big party tonight? Hey, you’re all twenty-one, right?”

   “Of course,” Mary lied with an expressionless face.

   “Yeah!” Melanie tried to mimic Mary’s composure and felt her face go red. “Totally!”

   “Twenty-four, actually,” Synn admitted sheepishly. “I’ll probably stop by the party for a bit, yeah.”

   “Oh, awesome-sauce!” Melanie looked at her friend in surprise. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

   “Well here, grab our table, then, before the vultures swoop in,” Ace said, giving the table a final swipe with his napkin and then stepping back to gesture the girls forward. For a guy who looked every bit the part of a brutish thug, he was surprisingly quite the gentleman.

   “Oh—thank you,” Synn gave him a genuine smile, slipping into the booth seat and sliding herself across the dark brown cushioning towards the window. Her folded coat was placed into a neat pile beside her, joined by the wide-brimmed red hat. The cosplay contest trophy then stood tall in the center of their table as a proud centerpiece.

   “I’ll stay in line with Foxy!” Melanie declared. Their spot in line was already beginning to move past the booth by now. She was still feeling totally wired with energy, though, and didn’t want to sit down. Not just yet.

   “I’m sitting, then,” Mary scowled, taking her place opposite Synn so that she’d be facing away from Melanie and Foxy as the line advanced and have them out of her sight.

   “Cool, cool,” Foxy nodded. “Drinks, you two?”

   “Iced tea, please,” Mary called.

   “Just water for me,” Jordyn waved. “Thanks.”

   “Gotcha. Be back in a bit,” Foxy promised, turning from the pair back towards the biker bandit trio. “You guys alright with bringin’ the goods up to the suite in the next couple hours? I don’t hand out room keys to anyone after that shit went down with Jeremy, but I should be over soon as we’re done eating here.”

   “Hey bro, just say the word,” Krieg displayed a toothy grin. “We’re just gonna be pre-gaming ‘till the party. Every little sip we take’ll lighten the fuckin’ load, right?”

   “These... esteemed gentlemen are in charge of about half the liquor that shows up at my li’l convention get-together every year,” Foxy explained for Melanie’s benefit. “Don’t let their looks fool you, they’re a bunch of sweethearts.”

   “Wait, half?” Tetsu interrupted. “I call bullshit, there’s no way Kenny’s bringing anywhere near what we haul up.”

   “Yeah, them’s fightin’ words, son,” Ace looked personally affronted, and immediately followed after them with his giant body to muster a defense. “Hey li’l Miss, have you ever been to Old Stone Brewery, just down south of here?”

   “Nuh-uh,” Melanie smiled, shaking her head.

   “Lemme tell ya,” Ace frowned, “I’ve been drinking pretty much nonstop since back when I was fifteen, and I’ve probably had about nine thousand beers since then. None of that draft beer garbage, either—God, you don’t drink draft beer, do you, Missy? Most nights, I drink Old Stones or O’Brynes, or we’ll go with an IPA. But, every weekend we get together to try out different import stuff, and that’s where—”

   Eep! Melanie froze in place, and she could almost see each sentence of the big guy’s strangely passionate tirade go right over her head as she felt a hand grab her ass. Foxy’d had his arm around her and his palm gently guiding her along at the small of her back, when it casually slid down lower to cup her butt.

   The red and brown brick decor within Marino’s flickered into green hues for a moment, and Melanie jerked in place— rocking her hips a little bit to press firmly back up against that hand on her rear until his fingers were practically digging into her through the cloth veneer of her short shorts. Distorted green spots danced and weaved down her body to tickle in her tummy, and she stared at Ace with an idiot grin plastered across her face, trying her darnedest to keep from showing any reaction.

   Ehehehe! Whelp, I’m for real totes fucked, now. If one were to ask Melanie about her weaknesses, she could eagerly rattle off a near-unending list, from impulse buys and sweets all the way down to her hyperactive attention disorder and inability to carry a stable relationship. What she wouldn’t tell you was how touching her butt, grabbing her butt, or copping a feel and fondling her cheeks, drove her fucking crazy.

   Okay—that’s a lie. I totally tell people about my turn-ons all the time, Melanie admitted to herself in embarrassment. Foxy gave her a playful squeeze, and all she could do was shimmy awkwardly in place beneath his grip, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out a moan. 

   “—So, the hop content is out there, sure, but it’s still just this bitter, nasty, gut-curling piss, if you ask me. And I don’t mean sour IPAs, either, because a good sour will just be kinda soft and tart in flavor. You’ll know the difference right away, because the aftertaste’ll—”

   “Yeah, yeah, you’re preachin’ to the choir,” Foxy waved him off in annoyance with a laugh. “Get outta here, save it for the party, will ya? My girl’s thinking about what she wants to eat, right now.”

   “Haha, whatever!” Ace laughed, shaking his head. “See ya ‘round, Miss.”

   Ohmigod, Melanie shifted weakly from foot to foot as the line moved forward past where Ace and his cronies could follow.

   Foxy was a little bolder now up closer to the counters, pretending to study the giant menu display board while he half-heartedly groped and explored her bottom. A dizzy, lightheaded sensation swirled through her mind, blots of green in a lightheaded sort of sex haze as Foxy felt her up. Try as she might, the only thought she could muster as she fought to keep from letting any noise escape was that she wanted to present her rear up to him more and more, like a cat in heat.

   Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Does he—does he know what this is fucking doing to me?!

*     *     *

   I’m losing my virginity this weekend, Mary decided with a frown, idly glancing around the busy pizzeria. Business was in full swing, and it was weeaboos galore in here.

   Teens wearing ninja forehead-protectors were hunched over a nearby table, scarfing down slices of pizza. A group of older, university-age nerds with five o’clock shadow and ironic T-shirts in one of the opposite booths were trading Monster Battlers creatures through their little handheld game consoles. Nearly a dozen young men in line among the crowded press of people were ogling a nearby clique of cosplay girls dressed in skimpy maid attire, and what appeared to be a bearded samurai warlord was placing his order at the counter.

   Too fucking weird, Mary shook her head in dismay. Found the perfect guy and my big moment’s finally about to happen, but it’s during this convention, this… creepy celebration of childishness.

   “You okay?” Jordyn asked.

   “Um…” Mary shot her an uneasy look. “Not really?”

   “What’s up?” Jordyn gave her a quizzical look.

   “...Foxy and I kissed, earlier,” Mary revealed with a sigh, quirking her lip. “I definitely want to go to his party tonight and have like, this whole experience. But, I’ve never drank before or anything. Now Melanie’s come along, and they’re all flirty and... I don’t know what’s going on between us, anymore.”

   I guarded my chastity all throughout high school, because my first time is SUPPOSED to be a wistful college romance, exploring new horizons and whatnot, Mary thought. It’s time, PAST time for this. Right?

   Mary wasn’t ready to admit that carefully guarding her chastity amounted to warning a guy to stop exactly once, back in eleventh grade. She refused to be easy. But, few guys that met her stringent special first time criteria tried all that hard to take their relationship further, and intimate dalliances since enrolling in college were... not forthcoming as of yet.

   Community college hadn’t exactly been the transformation of circumstances she’d imagined. Life didn’t feel very different, which was aggravating, because it was supposed to this big deal, supposed to open up the whole adulting world. She still lived with her parents, so it was just a longer drive and an annoying, overcomplicated class schedule.

    “Um,” Jordyn looking unsure as to whether or not to ask what might be a stupid question. “Do you like him?”

   “He’s good-looking, he has money,” Mary answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “He’s cool, he’s an older guy. Treats me pretty nice. He has money.”

   “Okay,” Jordyn nodded in amusement at the repetition. “But, do you like him?”

   “I don’t know?” Mary hunched her shoulders into a frustrated shrug. “I guess? What’s not to like?”

   “You tell me,” Jordyn said.

   Foxy was just about ideal for her purposes, in Mary’s eyes. He seemed to understand her, sympathize with just how difficult putting up with everything really was for her. His social acumen allowed him to snake through various different and disparate communities, and he possessed standing of some sort in each of them. He was a bit of an asshole, not everyone liked him all that much, but Mary could appreciate that, too. He was uniquely suited for her, compatible. Plus, he was rich.

   Only one Chinese guy at school had acceptable looks and a serious, hardworking disposition... and he couldn’t have been any less interested in her. After eventually deciding to settle for a white guy instead, she discovered actual dating was this exhausting nightmare. Sure, there were hook-up apps like Swiper where she could find someone without all the attached nonsense, but that didn’t seem appropriate for her first time. She wanted it to be something memorable, someone she shared some sort of important bond with. Also, sex was really scary.

   “Well, he is a bit geeky,” Mary frowned, feeling her resolution waffle back and forth. “He knows... little nerd culture stuff.”

   “Is that a bad thing?” Jordyn teased her with an affronted look.

   “Kinda? My brother’s like that,” Mary shuddered. “He’s like, the worst, the lowest, most vile, detestable little... freak there is. He’s at AnimeCon just to play that stupid card game of his. He doesn’t even like, go around and see things.”

   “Mana: the Mastery?” Jordyn guessed. “Their big event thingie?”

   “Yeah,” Mary made a face.

   “Don’t really mingle with that crowd too much,” Jordyn admitted. “Are they that bad?”

   “Yes. The worst, probably?” Mary wanted to sigh in exasperation.

   “Everyone has their passions,” Jordyn chuckled, eyes wandering up the tall Judge’s Choice trophy she’d placed in the center of their table. “Silly little interests, that teeter into obsession. I’m in no position to talk.” 

   Mary took a moment to thoughtfully study Jordyn’s features, because she seemed different than the other girls she’d met here. While the black girl was obviously into weeb stuff like cosplay, it didn’t seem to affect her social mien—she was comfortable starting conversations, asserting her flirty humor, and just seemed kind of… laid back, cool. Beautiful, with large, playful eyes and a certain appealing confidence. Without that certain edge of hostility that seemed to define Kelly.

   Guess it doesn’t help that I’m apparently such a heinous bitch, Mary thought to herself.

   Her attitude wasn’t a conscious choice. For as far back as she could remember, Mary’s tolerance for pointless bullshit bottomed out and remained right there around absolute zero. She knew interacting with friends required some degree of empathy and patience, but... Mary honestly didn’t strongly feel either of those things. The few times she’d faked it, it came off as so incredibly false that it turned her stomach.

   Shouldn’t have to pretend, just to fit in. Pisses me off. My parents don’t have to—they keep all of their relationships strictly business, and everyone respects and appreciates them for it.

   “Dinner is served!” Melanie’s exuberant voice interrupted Mary’s reverie.

   “Chow time,” Foxy agreed. A pair of appetizer baskets were perched atop the two pizza boxes in his arms, and he carefully set them onto the table while Melanie doled out drinks from a cardboard drink carrier.

   “Wow,” Jordyn remarked in surprise. Grabbing her folded duster and hat, she hopped up and switched places, scooching in on Mary’s side of the booth. “That was fast.”

   “They keep certain things ready to send out during dinner rush,” Foxy said, sliding in to sit across from Mary. “So long as you can spot what you want in the warmer, there’s no sense sitting around waiting forty-five minutes. Top one’s cheese, bottom one’s pepperoni.”

   “Sorry, guys,” Melanie actually gave them a bashful look, hands clutching at her stomach. “We coulda ordered meat lovers or haiwaiian instead of plain stuff, but I’m starving, I absolutely didn’t wanna wait forty-five minutes!”

   “Yeah, she could barely even keep on her feet,” Foxy remarked meaningfully.

   “Sh-shut up!” Melanie blushed red and playfully backhanded a smack across his shoulder.

   “I only eat pepperoni,” Mary reminded them in annoyance. “It’s fine.”

   “That one’s all yours, then!” Melanie gave her a guileless smile, climbing in beside Foxy.

   “Dig in, guys,” Foxy said. “Napkins are here—Marino’s doesn’t do plates.”

   “Hey, wait—what’s that thing they say in anime before they eat?” Melanie asked, tilting her head. “Uhh, ohayou moshi moshi, or something?”

   “Okay! So, first; clap your palms together,” Jordyn instructed, sitting up straight and demonstrating for them. “Like so.”

   “‘Kay!” Melanie complied, smacking her hands together in front of her.

   To her own surprise, Mary also quietly clapped her hands together along with them, trying to maintain her demure expression despite how foolish she felt.

   “Now you say, ‘itadakimasu,’” Jordyn said.

   “Itataka… uh…?” Melanie giggled. “Itadocky...”

   “Ee-ta-dak-e-MUS,” Foxy explained, giving the girls a sidelong look of amusement. “Means, thank you for the meal.” 

   “Well then,” Melanie grinned, locking eyes with Foxy. “Itadakimasu. Thank you for the meal!”

   “Thanks,” Mary said.

   “Anata wa nihongo o hanashimasu ka?” Jordyn quirked a smile at Foxy. “You speak Japanese?”

   “Hah, hardly,” Foxy grabbed a slice of pepperoni, waving a dismissive gesture at her with his free hand. “I just pick up bits and pieces, you know?”

   “I see you’re a man of many talents,” Jordyn observed with a meaningful smile.

   “I have like, a ton of talents,” Melanie interjected, pulling a piece of pizza high up into the air to separate strings of molten cheese from the rest of the pie. “I’m double-jointed!”

   “Isn’t the whole itadakimasu thing basically the same as saying grace?” Mary commented with a bored expression. Do people really have to go and celebrate the weeb version of everything?

   Mary had just carefully arranged a slice of pepperoni pizza on a napkin next to her drink when her phone lit up, playing that familiar burst of K-pop she’d set for her ringtone. She grimaced to see that it was her brother Mark. Of course it is. His timing’s as terrible as always.

   “Hello?” Mary grudgingly accepted the call. “What do you want?”

   “Mary, where the hell are you guys?” Mark demanded. “Brian ain’t answering his phone.”

   “I’m not with Brian,” Mary retorted. “I’m having dinner with Foxy. You saw me going off with Foxy.”

   “The fuck?” Mark groused. “I thought you guys were all going around together.”

   “No way,” Mary frowned. “Brian’s a creep, and I can’t stand his friends.”

   “Well, whatever—you’re retarded as always. Where are you? We’re going home.”

   “I’m downtown, having pizza with people,” Mary made a face. “What do you mean, going home? I got invited to a party.”

   “To do what?” Mark sounded confused.

   “Uh, to party?” Mary explained in disbelief.

   “Yeah, but why?” Her brother asked. “Like, what’s the point? You don’t know anyone.”

   “I know lots of people,” Mary argued, glancing from Jordyn and her competition trophy across to where Melanie was giggling at something Foxy said. “I’m not like you.”

   “Okay, well I’m driving home,” Mark pointed out. “So, you’re either meeting me at the car, or you’re finding your own way back.”

   “Ugh,” Mary made a frustrated face. “Can’t you like… wait?”

   “You’ve got five minutes,” Mark grunted, and he hung up on her before she could argue.

   “Fucking asshole,” Mary spat, clapping her phone onto the tabletop to punctuate her remark.

   “Who?” Jordyn asked, pulling apart a breadstick with her fingers and popping a portion into her mouth.

   “My brother wants to leave, like, now,” Mary griped. “I rode to the convention with him, my car’s still at home.”

   “Which way do you live?” Foxy inquired. “I know lots of people—maybe somebody’s heading back in your direction after the con.”

   “Little college town, just past Oakland,” Mary revealed, angrily reaching for her drink.

   “Er… well, I’m in the opposite direction,” Foxy chuckled, giving her a helpless shrug. “I can ask around for you, though.”

   “Never even heard of Oakland,” Jordyn winced. “Sorry.”

   “You can ride home with me!” Melanie cheerfully exclaimed. “I live in the Kingston Club area, I think Oakland’s like… ten? Fifteen minutes, from where I live? You’re just past Oakland?”

   “...Yeah,” Mary answered with a strained smile. While relieved at having her situation resolved so quickly, she wasn’t too sure about a car trip with her bubbly rival of sorts. “If you could, that’d be cool.”

   “Hells yes!” Melanie visibly brightened. “Awesome-sauce. I like, hate driving alone and havin’ no one to talk to.”

   Quirking her lip again, Mary nodded, and she was just setting her iced tea back on the table after a sip... when catastrophe struck.

   Mary held her drink like she always did—hand over the top, straw extended up between her fingers—when the cup suddenly separated from the lid, spilling sixteen ounces of tea across the edge of the table and right into her lap.

   “Shit!” Mary swore, flinching and jumping to her feet as the beverage immediately drenched through her jeans. “Motherfuck!”

   “You alright?” Foxy was already grabbing their small stack of spare napkins.

   “No, I’m not fucking alright!” Mary hissed, furious. “My pants are fucking soaked! I can’t wear them like this!”

   “Um, my hotel’s just across the street from the convention, if you wanna borrow a pair of jeans to wear,” Jordyn offered, quickly rescuing Mary’s phone from the spill spreading across the table. “If you want, it won’t take me but a minute to pop over and grab you something.”

   “Do you have leggings?” Mary asked, wincing. “Or, yoga pants?”

   “I… don’t think so?” Jordyn quirked her head. “Why?”

   “Don’t mean to sound unappreciative,” Mary mumbled. “But, I wear like, size zeroes.”

   “Ahhh,” Jordyn chuckled, flushing with embarrassment. “Right, yeah—nevermind. Sorry.”

   “I can go buy you leggings real quick!” Melanie offered, rising up out of her seat. “You went and bought me this cool shirt, and all. There was a booth selling these awesome rainbow starfield patterned leggings with—”

   “Nah, no good,” Foxy shook his head. “Dealer’s room closed at six o’clock.”

   “What?! No fair! ” Melanie pouted. “Shit, sorry, Mare. Mary.”

   “Forget it. It’s… whatever. Now it’s like I have to leave with my brother, though. Fuck!” Mary angrily fumed. “Guess I better get going?”

   “Kelly!” A familiar voice exclaimed, sounding out above the myriad conversations and noise of the pizza place.

   Kelly? Mary paused, turning in surprise. Are you fucking kidding me... 

   Looking through the crowd just beyond their booth, she saw that stupid pink-haired and possibly autistic girl from earlier—Stephanie. The one wearing that Flamitard dress, who’d been practically draping herself over Brian’s arm without any pretense of self-respect. The ditz was worming her way through the lines of people towards another girl Mary recognized immediately, and she immediately felt her blood rise at confirming that yes, it was that Kelly being shouted for. 

   Just out of her training bra and she thinks she’s hot shit, Mary remembered Kelly’s smirk. Time to return Betsy bed-wetter here to her brother…

   “Motherfuck,” Mary abruptly dropped back into the booth seat with a disconcerting squish, in no mood to be accidentally spotted. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

   “You’re not?” Jordyn blinked, surprised by the sudden reversal.

   “You know, Mary, you could just not wear pants?” Foxy suggested with a grin. “S’not even a big deal, right? Plenty of costumes ‘round here are basically just lingerie, or bikinis, or whatever.”

   “Just not wear any pants?” Mary glared at him in irritation as she tried to figure out what she was going to do. She hated this, it felt like she was seated in a fucking puddle. “Are you retarded?”

   “Well, I’m not letting you walk around in wet clothes,” Foxy decided, as if he was the voice of reason and simply stating the obvious. “It’s getting dark out already, and it’s gonna be chilly.”

   “Any old excuse to talk a girl outta her pants, huh?” Jordyn teased. “Wooow.”

   “Hey, in my defense, she’s cute as hell,” Foxy shot back, flashing them his most charming smile. “How could I not? C’mon Mary, seriously though, lose the pants. If you’re feeling shy or anything, just wear my coat. No one’ll be able to tell the difference.”

   Before she could retort to that, her phone started to go off again, and she angrily snatched it off of the table. It was Mark again. Already.

    “What.” Mary growled into her phone. She glared, watching Stephanie lead Kelly off away from them to disappear into the crowd.

   “I’m at the car, where are you?”

   “That wasn’t fucking five minutes, that was one minute!”

   “Whatever, close enough,” Her brother griped. “Where are you?”

   “I just—” She stopped herself in aggravation. No. There was no way she was telling him she’d spilled iced tea all over her lap. “—I’m having pizza with people, geez.”

   “What the fuck?” Mark sounded even more annoyed. “I told you to meet me at the car, we’re going. Get your skank ass over here, or I’m leaving without you.”

   “Leave, then!” Mary barked. “Fucking jerk. I’ll ride back with one of my friends.”

   “Yeah, right,” Mark’s grating laughter carried through her phone. “You don’t have any—”

   She hung up on him before he could finish his sentence, so worked up that it was all she could do to keep from making some sort of scene.

   “Everything alright?” Foxy gave her a charming smile.

   “...Do you really think I’m cute?” She demanded. 

   “Of course.” “Yeah.”

   Mary hesitated, looking from Foxy to Melanie in confusion, wondering why both of them had answered.

   Fuck it. I’m going to party with them tonight, anyways, Mary decided stubbornly, undoing the button of her pants, ripping the tiny zipper down, and hooking her thumbs into the waistband. I’m nineteen fucking years old!

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