Double Threat My Bleep (Double Threat Series)

by Julie Prestsater

  “Why? You don’t have to worry about Jon unless you did the deed with him. Did you have sex with Jon Jon?” I ask her. What else would be getting in the way of her and Josh?

  “Are you crazy? No girl, I’m as much a big V as the two of you are,” Keesh yells.

  “Don’t trip. I was just asking.”

  I take out my phone and type: You owe me $5. Keesh=virgin.

  And then, off the message goes to Alex. I laugh inside.

  “So you can get with Joshie, then,” I tell her.

  “Right. But give it time. If you guys really like each other, you can try a relationship,” Steph says.

  “See that's it. In time. So all next year is plenty of time. I'm jumping on Meg's idea. Next year. Me. Single. Have fun. Date. And I'll see where it takes me,” Keesh explains.

  “Hmm.” Steph looks in deep thought.

  Keesh starts to fumble with the remote on her chair. I do the same, trying to turn on the feature for a butt massage. Aww, there it goes. Nice and relaxing.

  “Ok, I'm in,” Steph shouts.

  “For what?” I mumble. Keesh is sitting back with her eyes closed.

  “For the single ladies year,” she says.

  “The single ladies year?” That sounds so goofy.

  “Yeah, we're gonna be sly, meeting lots of guys, no commitments. This should be fun,” Steph says.

  Keesh opens one eye. “S…L…Y…SLY…I like that. Looks like it's just the girls again.”

  “So this is it. Are you sure? No steady boyfriends. No relationships. Just us three for the whole year. What about the boys?” I ask, thinking about Travis and Josh. They'll still be at school next year.

  “This is just a girl thing. We can't tell them our plan. They can still kick it with us, but they can't know about the SLY.” Keesh lingers on the word like it's something special. “Forget Girls Gone Wild, it’s Girls Gone SLY.” We all laugh.

  “But we’re not just any girls,” I tell them. They look at me like I’m crazy. Then Keesh gets a sick smile on her face. She gets it.

  “Nope. We’re double threats,” Keesh yelps.

  I sit up in my chair and practically kick my nail lady in the face, “So it’s Double Threats Gone SLY.”

  “Beats double threats my ass,” Keesh jokes.

  “No shit. I told you guys this year sucked. Look at us, we all started out the year with hot, sweet boyfriends. Now, we’re all dumped. I got suspended. I got grounded for weeks. I got shitty grades. And I had to go to therapy with Amy.”

  “Okay, let’s not bring up old shit,” Keesh says. “Don’t even trip. It’s all about next year. The single ladies year.”

  “Sounds good,” Steph proclaims, “I’m in.”

  “Me too. I'm in,” Keesh says, giving a thumbs up.

  “Alright. SLY it is. I'm in,” I shout, pumping my fist in the air.

  So that's it. After a tenth grade year of nothing but heart ache and break ups, our junior year will have no chance of that. Instead we have the eleventh grade pact. Single ladies year. Lots of boys, but no promises. Absolutely no relationships, just dates.

  Eventually we might have boyfriends again.

  Maybe.

  Someday.

  Double Time

  The third Double Threat novel

  Sneak Peek

  “Okay chicas…it’s time,” Stephanie says, relaxing her shoulders with a big sigh.

  “Yes, it is,” I add, grasping her hand.

  “S-L-Y…sly…single ladies year,” Keesha reminds us, as if we need reminding. She takes my other hand and here we stand. All dressed up, all made up, checking ourselves out in the mirrors of my closet doors.

  Steph looks comfortable in a plus-sized pair of skinny jeans, a fitted shirt (but it doesn’t even give her a muffin top). Her girls are almost spilling out—just enough to be sexy but not so much she looks like a skank. A cute pair of strappy sandals show off her freshly painted toes. Long wavy curls flow to her waist and just a tad of makeup creates this beauty grinning before us. She’s ready. Definitely ready.

  Keesh could wear a ratty old apron and she’d still look gorgeous. She too is wearing dark skinny jeans, but with a black ruffle lace tube top. A string of beads flows right down the center of her cleavage. She’s starting to look older…like a woman. Steph and I still have baby faces, but Keesh could be mistaken for being in her early twenties. Her skin is so smooth it looks airbrushed and her makeup is flawless. I’d have to spend all day with an extreme makeover team to get that look and I wouldn’t come close—and Keesh does it herself.

  Me? I’m just typical little old me. Haha. Just kidding. I look smokin’. Okay, not really. Well yeah, I look good. It was hard, but I kept the pounds off over the summer. Even when most of our adventures included going out to eat or drinking beer. Maybe it was all the horsing around in the pool that helped me out. Or maybe it was…oh, never mind. I don’t want to talk about Travis right now. That’s still a sore subject.

  So me? I’m workin’ the skinny jean thing too. Mine aren’t super tight or anything. Just enough to show off my shape, which finally isn’t a pear. And I really like my new top—long sleeve black mesh with a black cami underneath.

  “You look hot Meggie,” Keesh says, catching me check myself out.

  With the three of us still holding hands, looking each other up and down, from head to toe, I respond, “Thanks. So do you guys. Now let’s go.”

  My mom leaves us off at the mall. When Lydia gets off work from Express, she’s going to drop us at the party. I’m missing the guys already. Well Dominic, and Ben. Without them, getting around is going to be difficult. I don’t see why we have to steer clear of Ben. It’s not like any of us have ever gone out with him. The girls think the one time we went to Wendy’s freshmen year counts as going out, so Ben’s in the no-fly zone too—the place where we have put all the ex-boyfriends, ex-friends with benefits, ex-crushes, etc. We’ve made a pact to not hook up with any of those foolios this year. It’s all about new guys, new experiences, and lots and lots of fun. But before we can have all this fun…we need a ride.

  Just one more year of needing a chauffeur. Next year, all three of us will have our licenses and be able to tote each other around. We took our driving class over the summer and got our permits. It really sucks none of us thought about getting all of this taken care of before we turned sixteen. Now, we have to wait six months before we can get our actual licenses and another year before we can drive each other around—legally, but who follows that rule? By that time, we’ll be eighteen so it doesn’t even matter. The boys, of course, could care less about obeying the law. Josh got his license on his birthday in July, and he’s taking Travis to the party.

  Last night Josh asked us if we wanted a ride, but Trav cut him off and said, “No way…these chicks want to ditch us now remember, so they’re on their own. If they want to go out, act like hoochies, and hook up with a bunch of dudes, let ‘em. But we’re not gonna help them.”

  “Fair enough,” Josh agreed with him.

  Boys. So difficult. They’re acting like babies just because we want to meet new people. Ok, I’d probably be pissed too if Travis told me he’d like to put things on hold for awhile so he could explore other options. Wow. When I put it like that, it does sound mean. Now I get why he stares me down like he wants to punch me in the face. That glare doesn't ever last long to make the intended impact on me...but I can see his frustration.

  Lydia puts the car in park a few houses down from the party. No way do we want her to pull in the driveway to drop us off.

  "Do you have protection?" she asks, jokingly. At least, I think she's joking.

  "Ha ha," Steph responds.

  "I'll text you later to tell you when I'm going to pick you guys up," she says.

  Steph flips up the seat so Keesh and I can get out, murmuring, "Sounds good," to her sister.

  "Thanks Lyd," I tell her when I'm out.

  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She laughs.


  Keesh flickers her brows up and down, "Well, I guess that means we can do just about anything."

  Steph chuckles, "Or anyone."

  I burst out laughing.

  "Real funny bitches, find your own ride home," she yells, as the window goes up. She pulls away from the curb, and speeds down the street. Oops. I wonder if she’s serious. Knowing Lydia, it’s a definite possibility.

  The shivers hit my body as we walk into Eric’s house. It’s a warm evening so it can’t be the weather. Since I’ve been here before—many times, in fact—you’d think I’d feel comfortable. But I don’t. I haven’t been here in over a year, not since we broke up. Not since I found out he was screwing my best friend. That was so long ago. While I’m still not talking to Amy, Eric and I have sort of patched things up. Enough for me to come to his party anyway.

  Last year, my evil math teacher sent us to the office and Eric, Amy, and I had to go to counseling for Conflict Management. It was stupid really. Amy still acted like she didn’t do anything wrong. Bitch. But Eric apologized, and I believe he was sincere. So here I am—in his house.

  The festivities are in full swing. Same story, different time. It’s classic really. I bet if I were to go back in time and hit a party my parents went to, it’d be the same old thing. Couples making out on the couch, a group of potheads smokin’ dope in the corner of the yard, football players doing keg stands to prove their manhood, and music blaring to the point you have to yell to be heard. I silently laugh to myself picturing my mom at a party getting down to some New Kids. I don’t even want to think about what my dad would have been listening to. He’s more of the classic rock guy—he was probably into mosh pits and crowd surfing.

  “What up ladies. Glad you came,” Eric says, meeting up with us on our way outside. He hugs Keesh and Steph, and when he gets to me it’s more like a quick pat on my shoulder. I’m a little relieved he is just as weirded out by this as I am. “The guys are here already. Over there,” he points out Josh and Travis, “if you’re looking for them.”

  “We’re not,” Keesh squeaks out. “We’re gonna get started with a little hip shaking though. Wanna dance?”

  “Alright, why not.” Eric follows Keesh out to the patio where people have started to dance, and we trail behind.

  The beats are really fast and loud. Before the song finishes, I start to work up a sweat. Steph and I are messing around when I recognize this guy from history last year. He’s cute. Tall, tan, and muscular…probably a water polo player. He’s sporting a longer faux hawk, kinda messy but definitely styled. He probably uses a flat iron, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all. He’s dancing with a bunch of girls so I bet he’s single.

  Okay, maybe not. Bummer. Some chick just gave him a beer and splashed a sloppy wet kiss on his mouth. I say sloppy because I could see her tongue poking out before her lips even hit his face. Poor guy. When he’s done with her, he can come my way and I will show him what a hot kiss feels like—one you don’t need a bib to recover from.

  “Did you see that?” Steph asks, nodding in their direction.

  “Gross huh,” I tell her.

  “What a waste…that guy is fine.” She cracks me up. She’s came a long way, making jokes and talking crap. I love it.

  “Tell me about it. I was checking him out. Thought he might be an option,” I say, hanging my air quotes.

  “You’d have to fight me for him. He’s too tall for you anyway.”

  “Everyone is too tall for me.” We both laugh.

  “Whatcha guys talking about?” Keesh says, joining our convo as Eric walks away.

  “Thought we had a hottie, but turns out he’s taken,” I explain.

  “No worries, there’s more where he came from,” Keesh says, looking on as his friends arrive and start doing the fist bumps with our guy.

  “Water polo,” I mutter.

  “Huh?”

  “When I first saw hottie number one, I was thinking he had to be a water polo player with those shoulders and that tan. Look at his friends. Same build, same color…”

  “And they’re wearing water polo shirts,” Keesh finishes for me.

  “Guess we know what we’ll be doing after school.” Steph winks.

  “Any one of them, hopefully,” Keesh says, giggling.

  “Oh oh, look at that one,” Steph says, excitedly. “He’s checking you out Meggie.”

  I try not to glance in their direction, but I can’t help it. Who cares if they know we’re looking? How else are they supposed to know we’re interested? Duh.

  “Ooo. He’s cute. Look at them lips.” Okay, I think I have a mouth fetish. I love nice full lips, ones you just want to suck on. And he definitely has them.

  Keesh starts walking over to the water polo team, who are now standing in the corner, red plastic cups in their hands, chatting away.

  “What’s she doing?” I ask Steph.

  “You never know with her, but it’s gonna be big no matter what it is.”

  We try to keep dancing while we fake talk and spy on Keesh. I’m sure we look like idiots, barely moving and bobbing our heads.

  “Oh shit, here she comes,” I say.

  Steph smacks me, “And not alone.”

  “Look what I found,” Keesh squeals as she walks back with three very hot looking guys.

  Steph and I don’t utter a word, but smile.

  “I brought you ladies an early Christmas present,” she continues. “David is for you, Megster.” He plays along with her and holds out a hand to shake mine. When I put my hand in his, he pulls me toward him and spins me around.

  “Hey,” I tell him with a giggle.

  “And, Stephanie, this is Doug.” He leans in and kisses her cheek.

  “I’m not as graceful as he is.” Doug waves his hand at David.

  Steph looks mesmerized. “That’s okay, I’m far from graceful myself.”

  “Steve, these are my girls…Stephanie and Megan.”

  “What up?” he greets us.

  “Word,” I say. WTF. Did I just say that? I may as well have flashed a peace sign while I’m at it.

  “Don’t mind her,” Keesh says. “Let’s dance.”

  “You wanna?” I look up at tall fine David and ask.

  “Word,” he replies. Funny and fine. He has my approval.

  And he can move. Thank you. I absolutely refuse to go out with a guy who cannot dance. I’d go out with the most butt ugly dude in the world if he could dance before I’d go out with the most gorgeous guy in the world if he had zero in the rhythm department. I need a man who can do a little bumpin’ and grindin’ with me.

  And David sure can.

  We’re dancing face to face, fingers laced together, moving side to side with the beat. My heart is thumping fast and I’m feeling warm all over, and not just because I’m getting a workout. This guy is H-O-T and he’s making me feel like I have my body in a fireplace. He drops one of my hands, and places his on my hip. As we sway, he pushes me away slightly and spins me around so my backside is up to his front. With both of his strong hands around my waist, I feel like I’m going to burst. I can feel his breath on my neck and I sneak a peek up at him. He smiles at me. I wanna say, “Kiss me fool.” But I don’t. One side of my mouth curves up with a flirtatious grin.

  Tearing my eyes away from his, but leaving my ass shaking in his lap, I glance back at the party and my jaw drops in shock. Or horror. Or both.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, as my steamy dance comes to an abrupt stop.

  “Nice to see you too, Meggie.”

  About the Author

  Julie was thrilled to receive her very first copy of So I’m A Double Threat. She was on her way out for a jog when the mail carrier came and tore open the box immediately. With messy hair and no makeup, she posed for a photo and picture messaged family and friends while she started her run—hoping she wouldn’t run into anything along the way.

  Fans of the Double Threat series will also enjoy Julie’s stand alone novel You Act So Wh
ite which is available now. Part 3 in the Double Threat series will be out in the spring of 2012.

  Visit Julie on Facebook (Double Threat Novels), Twitter (@juliepbooks), and her official website: juliepbooks.com.

  Visit BN.com, Amazon.com, Smashwords.com, and Goodreads.com to leave a book review or comment. Julie loves to hear feedback from her readers.

  Credits

  Published by Cornessamara Press

  California

  © 2012 Julie Prestsater

  © 2010 Original Copyright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of a reviewer using brief passages.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, and real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Photography: Matt Ford (www.TheWestGateStudios.com)

  Cover Models: Jurnee Mroczek & Gabriel Quesada

  Hair and Makeup:

  Daneen Solomon (www.DaneenSummerMUA.com)

  Sasha Perez

  Stephanie Barker

  Visit Julie on the Web at www.juliepbooks.com.