I didn’t get to see her before she left, so I didn’t know if she was sans bra or sans panties. All I could think about the whole time she was gone was what he was doing to her. Or what she was doing to him. Or what they were doing to each other. She got home at the stroke of 9 P.M., which was her curfew. Mom, who got back from her class after Cat left on her date, waited up for her, as usual. I was still too freaked out by Cat stripping in front of me, not to mention asking if she could touch my wang, to chance talking to Mom. She’d know something was up. I was sure of it. So I made sure I was reading with my headphones on when Mom opened my bedroom door and asked where Cathy was.“Date,” I said, and looked right back at my book.She was tired, as usual. She got something to eat and watched TV until Cathy got home. I took the headphones off and left my door open a crack so I’d hear when she got home. I snuck down the hall and eavesdropped.“You wore that on a date?” Mom’s voice. “Dude, just shut the hell up and drive,” I commanded. After we reached a few more miles toward home, Suave began navigating his car through a residential street. Without saying a word, Dirty handed to me a folding army shovel that he had transported in the back of Suave’s car. I unhinged the scoop of the shovel and locked the passenger door. As I was rolling down the window, Suave slowed his car and began driving very close to a row of mailboxes. I hung my torso out the window and batter-upped with the shovel. Swinging at the first mailbox, I entirely missed the target. With my second swing, I managed only to scrape the side portion of the next mail receptacle. I struck out on my third attempt, only being able to bash the shovel against the metal pole that secured the final mailbox, which caused my arms to reverberate with pain. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dirty accosted me. “Those mailboxes are so close that my mirror is damn near.
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