Edge of Something More

by Andi Loveall

  She pondered it a second before smiling and wiggling them down. She pulled down one side of her black cotton panties, revealing a tiny blue star. On the opposite hip, there was another one, slightly bigger.

  “Maggie had the same tattoo but reversed—hers was bigger on this side. We got them when we started doing graffiti together.”

  “They’re beautiful,” he said, stroking them. She quivered at his touch, smiling and biting her lip. He leaned down, kissing her there.

  “This is my favorite spot on a girl,” he said.. “One of them, anyway.”

  She let out a whimper, turning him on even more. His kisses intensified, working down toward the middle. He could feel her heat through the fuzz of black cotton.

  “I want to give you an orgasm.”

  “Devin.” She giggled. “You can’t just come out and say it like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you have orgasms?”

  “What? Like, by myself?”

  “Yeah … Or with people before. Whatever.”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t want to know how to turn you on and make you come.”

  She let out a laugh.

  “I can tell your pussy is getting wet,” he said, gently biting her pelvic bone. “That’s why.”

  She squealed and burst into giggles, grabbing him by the head.

  “You don’t know,” she said, laughing. “You think you know, but you don’t.”

  “I want to know,” he said, pressing his face into her. “Let me.”

  He moved his hands up and under her shorts, gently stroking his fingertips on the outside of her panties. Just as he was about to take them off, there was yelling outside and a thmp thmp thmp of a fist on the wall. He jumped.

  “Devin!” Lucius shouted from outside. “Oh my God! Fire!”

  He and Cora exchanged a glance, and then they were up. They flew toward the door, Cora pulling her shorts up on the way.

  They burst through to see Panky standing before them, the metal of the hose handle glimmering in the moonlight. For a second, it seemed she was the hero, ready to put out the fire and save the day. But she was laughing, and the hose was pointed in the wrong direction.

  Most of the water landed on Cora, who shrieked and ran back inside. Lucius appeared from behind the cabin, laughing hysterically and snapping pictures with Panky’s phone.

  Devin grimaced, blinded by the flash. He looked down at his dripping stomach.

  “Devin,” Lucius said, barely able to breathe. “I swear, the fire thing was my idea—but I didn’t know she was going to get the hose.”

  “You lying git! He knew!”

  “Is this happening? Is this what’s happening?”

  “Aww,” Lucius said. “We love you, Devin.”

  “Love me?” He smirked at them, glancing back at the cabin and lowering his voice. “You guys push me and push me to make something happen and then interrupt me right as I’m about to seal the deal?”

  Cora stormed back out, looking fiery. She had changed into fuzzy pajama pants and a white tank top.

  “You’re just jealous, Panky.”

  “Whatever you’d like to think is fine by me,” Panky said, tossing the hose aside and heading for the cabin. “Just as long as I can settle in for bed without having to walk in on a snogfest.”

  She went inside, slamming the door.

  “She’s so jealous. I don’t think we can be roommates anymore.”

  “Come on you guys,” Lucius said. “It isn’t that. We just thought it would be funny. I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as you will be,” Devin said. “You’re gonna find out the mistake you’ve made. I happen to be an expert in the art of revenge.”

  Lucius got the little boy face. “Revenge? What sort of revenge?”

  “Time will tell,” Devin teased.

  Lucius blinked and then cracked up laughing.

  “Brother,” he said, slapping his shoulder. “You’re one of a kind.”

  “You think I’m—He thinks I’m joking,” Devin said, motioning to Lucius as he walked away. “You’ll see!”

  “I’m going down to Internet for a few hours,” Lucius said. “Maybe watch a movie. You two feel free to enjoy the cabin.”

  Devin took Cora by the hand, heading into his cabin.

  “Whatever consequences befall us all because of this day,” he said. “There’s one thing to remember and one thing only.”

  He paused dramatically. “It was all their fault.”

  And that it was. It definitely wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t a bad guy. He’d never started a prank war in his life, but he would defend his honorable name with great vigor if necessary. Years of life with Aaron and Dave had prepared him for this moment, and now he was amped up and ready to do battle. He would never admit defeat. Therefore, once a prank war began, the only way it could end was if the other side admitted defeat or if everyone involved was dead—hopefully, due to something other than the prank war.

  “There are only two rules,” he said to Cora as they sat on his bed. “Rule number one: No destruction of personal property. Not cool. Personal property includes cars, clothes, and most importantly, food. Messing with food leads to fistfights and house fires and people drunkenly sobbing in remorse … It’s a long story, and I promise you don’t want to hear it.”

  “You and your friends are animals. I’d never even consider doing any of that.”

  “I know, and good.”

  “What’s rule number two?”

  His eyes shined at her.

  “Whatever we do, it must be epic.”

  The glowing gem of pride in all of his prankster past was the time he convinced Aaron that some sort of apocalypse was occurring and that his car had been taken by a random looter. It was easier than he thought it was going to be. Dave parked the car around the block while Devin removed the SIM card from every cell phone in the house and disconnected the television and Internet cables. They then woke Aaron up and worked him into a panic, claiming that right before the cable went out, the news announced that the country was under attack. Aaron saw that his phone wasn’t working and freaked out, running downstairs to the parking lot to find an empty space where his car should have been. Two hilarious minutes passed before he started to cry and Devin couldn’t take it anymore.

  When it came to getting Panky and Lucius, there were many possible plans of attack. Trash canning, clothes stealing, and pummeling the targets with anything that would leave them filthy and uncomfortable were all options, but he considered those tactics amateurish at best. He was more of a mental player, choosing to discover a weakness and figure out how to most comically exploit it. This was an intense process that could take days, or even weeks. Other times, it took thirty seconds.

  “I’ve got it,” he said, cracking up. “We tell Panky that we had sex on her bed.”

  Cora looked dismayed. “What?”

  “We wait until tomorrow morning, and we tell her we had sex on her bed. It’ll be hilarious. She’ll be so pissed.”

  “But we didn’t have sex on her bed. We didn’t have sex at all.”

  “So what? She doesn’t have to know that.”

  Cora shoved him. “You’re demented, you know that? If we ever have sex—which, by the way, is a big maybe—it should be beautiful. We’re not making it into some stupid joke. Anyway, that’s a disgusting thing to do to someone.”

  “Of course our sex isn’t a joke. I know. I was just thinking it would make her unlike me. Then, maybe she would leave us alone.”

  If Cora thought having sex on someone’s bed was bad, she should have seen the god-awful things he and Dave used to do to each other. Dave was an evil genius with a mean poker face and no morals whatsoever. Taking him on was always a risky endeavor, and to do so with success, one had to hold to the understanding that almost nothing was off limits. Dave didn’t mean to be a dickhead, but he was. D
evin still owed him for the time he had put a used condom on his face while he was sleeping.

  “What are you so worried about?” Dave had yelled, throwing his skinny little arms into the air. “It’s a condom! My dick only touched the inside. My dick can’t go through the plastic, it’s a condom, that’s what it does. Relax, bro.”

  And relaxed Devin had. What could he say? He had truly been owned.

  He had plenty of other great ideas for psychological warfare, but Cora shot all of them down, too. He was quickly growing bored of this game and wanted to go back to making out, so amateurish humiliation would have to be enough.

  They struck the next morning, when Lucius had reserved the bathroom for his bi-weekly dreadlock cleanse.

  “Wait for it … ” Devin looked at Cora and held up a hand, peering through the bathroom window. “Wait for it …”He couldn’t see into the stall, but he could see the soap bottles sitting on top. Lucius’s hand appeared, reaching for one of the bottles. Devin ducked back, biting down a snicker.

  Two seconds to apply, two seconds to lather up and …

  “Now!”

  Cora dove into the bathroom, grabbed up the clothes, and went flying across the courtyard toward his cabin. Devin ran after her as Lucius hollered in surprise.

  They locked themselves in, along with the rest of his clothes.

  “Aw, come on guys,” Lucius said, standing outside the window. “If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.”

  He bent over, gyrating up and down in the world’s most horrifying attempt at twerking. They turned away, shielding their eyes.

  At least it took care of their revenge on Panky, who screamed bloody murder as she came around the corner.

  They tried again on Sunday morning. Devin headed down to the house early, enlisting Cora to intercept Lucius on his way down and tell him that Walter was looking for him over by the compost bins. This was a simple task that should have only taken a few minutes, but after waiting in the shadows with a bucket of muddy sludge for over fifteen, Devin gave up. There was no point in waiting when he could be inside making raw falafel.

  A twig snapped behind him. He turned and saw Lucius, pointing the hose. Cora was standing at his side.

  “Agh!” he yelled, shielding himself and trying to splash them with the sludge. He slipped and dropped the bucket, spilling it everywhere.

  “You’ll be sorry!” He chased after them. “It’s every man for himself, now!”

  Things began to descend into madness. The use of the hose became expected, so they moved on to other measures, such as jumping out and terrifying each other, smashing stuff in each other’s faces, shoving ice down each other’s pants, and so on. No one could be trusted, as they were constantly switching sides, coming up with detailed campaigns to convince any two people to join forces with a third in a random assault on a fourth. The only safe place was the kitchen, where Raven wouldn’t allow such horseplay to disrupt the creative energies.

  “What’s with you kids?” She shook her head. “Is it the full moon already?”

  By Tuesday’s dinner, the game was burnt out. They couldn’t stop looking at each other with suspicion, as if at any moment, one of them would pick up his or her bowl of steaming-hot Thai noodle soup and hurl it in the face of another.

  “What do you say,” Lucius said, looking weary. “Temporary truce?”

  “Good idea,” Devin said. “How about … a week?”

  “A week?” Raven said. “Why not forever?”

  “Because I still owe him one.”

  Panky and Lucius had dish duty that night, so Devin and Cora went up the hill, ready to maximize their time together just like every night. She claimed to have taken the unpleasantly timed interruption to their sex life as a sign they should “maybe slow things down,” but he was okay with that, because apparently, his clearance pass still allowed for all forms of kissing, cuddling and caressing, and the night before, she allowed him to feel her up under her shirt.

  They arrived back at the cabin, taking off their shoes and cuddling up on her bed.

  “I still can’t decide if all that was fun, or terrible,” he said. “And I still can’t believe you betrayed me.”

  “Oh please. You deserved everything you got.”

  “Oh really? If that’s what you think, I might as well be as annoying as possible. Then I can get my money’s worth.”

  “How would that be different from any other day?”

  “Oh no,” he said, widening his eyes and throwing himself on top of her. “Help! I’m magnetized to the bed!”

  “Get off!” She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “You’re crushing me.”

  “Help! Why aren’t you helping?”

  “You want help? Here’s some help.”

  He giggled, shielding himself as she smacked him repeatedly. When he had enough, he pinned her beneath him, tickling her.

  “Truce, truce.” She laughed, trying to pry his hands off her. “Truce!”

  “Truce right now, or prank-war truce?”

  “Both,” she squealed. “Both!”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Seriously though, can it be a for-real truce? Like, forever? I don’t want us doing any more pranks on each other. It was funny ha-ha, but now we’re done. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. We should always be on the same side.”

  “Kiss on it?”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  He kissed her long and sweet. He could feel that she was turned on. He gently rubbed his hand over her stomach and down into her crotch, and she didn’t protest.

  “Devin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I talked to Walter about fixing up the spare cabin for Panky. So you and I can have privacy in here.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Privacy is good.”

  “It just needs a new mattress. Walter’s picking that up tomorrow morning. Maybe Thursday night, you can sleep over.”

  He smiled, trying to hide his explosive excitement. “Sounds fun.”

  “I care about you. And if we do … do something … the last thing I want is for someone to walk in and ruin it. And knowing Panky, that’s exactly what would happen.”

  “If we do something,” he said, kissing her. “Nothing will ever be ruined again.”

  ***

  On Thursday, Devin was planning to sleep in late. Instead, something woke him up shortly after eight. He glanced at the clock and then rolled over on his back to see Lucius standing over him, a deranged-looking smile on his face.

  “Dude!”

  “Get up.”

  “No,” Devin said, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be fucking with me right now.”

  “It’s not a prank,” he said, the smile unwavering. “I have a surprise. For Cora’s birthday.”

  “Her birthday is tomorrow.”

  “So? Tomorrow we work.”

  “You better not be screwing with me.”

  “I’m not. Should we ambush the birthday girl?”

  “Do you understand the meaning of the word truce?”

  “Truces don’t really offer protection against birthday attacks, do they?”

  “Your point is relevant and noted,” Devin said. “Let’s do it.”

  Lucius led the way, snickering quietly with a finger over his lips as they crept up to the door of the girls’ cabin. They paused for a second and then went bursting in, hollering like savages. Cora sat up just in time to see them flying at her. The look on her face proved that the best things in life did indeed come free.

  “Earthquake!”

  He leaped onto the bed and began springing up and down, nearly vaulting her off. She kicked herself out from under the covers and tripped him. He fell on top of her.

  “Happy birthday,” he said, grinning.

  “Oh my God.”

  “I was having a lovely dream!” Panky shouted from her bed, hurling a pillow at him. “What the bloody hell is the matter with you?”

  “Yeah,”
Cora said. “You lying little trucebreakers.”

  “This isn’t a prank,” Lucius said, messing up her hair. “We just came to say happy birthday because we like you.”

  “Yeah,” Devin said. “You’re so unappreciative.”

  “My birthday is tomorrow.”

  “What’s with you people?” Lucius said. “We can celebrate today.”

  “Celebrate?” Panky brightened. “Celebrate how?”

  “You’ll see,” Lucius said.

  “Are we going somewhere, then?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Somewhere far?” Cora asked.

  “Depends on how you look at it.”

  Panky’s face morphed with realization. “You’ve got something, don’t you?”

  “First, say: Lucius, you’re the greatest.”

  Cora made a face. “Just tell us what it is!”

  “Say: Lucius, you diabolical genius, because of you I’m about to have a very special day. Thank you, Lucius. Thank you.”

  Lucius pointed at her and paused, face frozen in a mischievous little sneer. Then he dug around in his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag packed with something brown, presenting it as if it were a sacred artifact.

  “Whoa.” Devin breathed. “Are those mushrooms?”

  Lucius giggled at him. “You’re such a little guy.”

  Devin made a face and snatched the bag from his hands, holding them up to look at them in the light. They were like little alien towers, twisted and dry.

  As a child, he hated mushrooms, especially in creamy pasta, which was supposed to be creamy, not filled with disgusting little chunks of disgustingness. His mother always used the canned kind; that was the problem. It took him until his teen years to work up the courage to try a fresh one, and that was when he realized they weren’t half-bad.

  He handed the bag to Panky and turned, grabbing Cora’s hair and giving it a little tug.

  “What do you say, should we do mushrooms for your birthday?”

  “And then have a sleepover later?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They began to kiss, and Panky let out a groan.

  “Thank God I’m moving out today.”

  “Indeed,” Devin said, flipping her off as they continued kissing.