Trouble
“Her curfew was nine o’clock, but we were prepared to overlook her lateness, given the news we were about to spring on her.“Hello, Wendy,” I called when I heard her in the entryway. “We’re in here.”She took her time taking off her coat, hanging it in the closet, going into the kitchen, going to her room to leave her backpack. Anthony and I waited for her, occasionally exchanging a look but not speaking. I heard her cooing to her hamster, Melvin, as she fed him.I could smell the musk of sex wafti...ng up from my pajama shirt, the smell of Anthony’s skin and semen, and my own smells. It had been a short and emotional fuck just now, possibly, but not necessarily, our last. Immediately afterward, he had sat up. “Well,” he had said, “I think we needed that.”Wendy sidled into the living room, not looking at either of us, holding a glass of cranberry juice. “Hey,” she said, perching as far as she could get from me on the far end of the couch, tucking a leg under her, putting her juice down on the table next to the couch.MoreLess
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