Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Oranges and Drive-Ins

Nikki’s POV

“Looks like somebody got laid last night.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water over my mind. I was jolted from my thoughts and pulled back into reality by the sound of a familiar voice. I tore my gaze from my phone to look up at Caddie as she slid into the seat across from me. She was smirking like a deviant at me behind the thin wisps of dark hair that were being blown across her face.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me missy,” she admonished, wiggling her fingers at me, “I recognize the signs. Glowing skin, twinkle in the eyes, stupid grin. It’s obvious that you, my friend, have been doing the ‘ol hanky panky.”

I gave her a look that implied I thought she was a complete lunatic. Because I did. “You mean like from that song we used to sing when we were kids? You know. Down by the banks of the hanky panky where the bullfrogs jump from banky banky with a hip hop -,”

“No not that you idiot,” she said, “I mean doing the deed. You know! Boinking, screwing, porking, boning, fu-,”

“I get it,” I said, holding my hands up in the universal ‘stop’ sign. If I knew Caddie, and I did entirely too well, then this was only going to escalate. And by the end of her tirade she’d be drawing me diagrams or acting it out with finger puppets. And I didn’t need that.

“Well then who was it?” she demanded, “What lucky fella tossed it to you last night?”

It was obscene how many different terms for sex Caddie knew. When it came to anything dirty, this girl had an identic memory. She was an appendix of filth. In French class, she struggled to remember how to say simple sentence like good morning and see you later. But it was forever burned into her memory that ‘bon ami’ was French for fuck buddy.

“Well to the best of my knowledge, nobody ‘tossed it to me’ last night. I mean, I’m a pretty heavy sleeper but I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered that.”

“Are you honestly trying to lie to me about your sex life?” she demanded, seeming outraged, “You know I have Laidar.”

I rolled my eyes before letting them flicker quickly to the phone in my hands impatiently. Still nothing. “Well it must be on the fritz. Because I, did not get laid last night.”

“Nuh uh,” she denied it, shaking her head back and forth as she tapped her finger against her temple, “This thing is fool proof. And right now, it’s saying that you most certainly got some last night. Now spill or I’ll be forced to beat it out of you. So who was it?”

“I wish I could tell you Caddie,” I said solemnly, “But I can’t. Because he doesn’t exist.”

She regarded me with careful, narrowed eyes – searching my expression for something. What that something was, I had no idea. I didn’t understand how people could tell if someone else was doing it or not. What, did people who are getting laid emit a certain fruity scent or something?

“Nah. I’m not buying it. No way a vibrator could make you glow like that.”

I groaned, throwing my head down against the table in frustration. Arguing with Caddie was like arguing with a tape recorder. No matter how logically you present your case or how much evidence you have – she’s just going to repeat the same thing back to you. It was extremely vexing.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, louder than I should have in all honesty, “That’s because I didn’t have an orgasm last night!”

A group of passing freshmen boys paused to give me looks that clearly said “the fuck is wrong with you lady?”