Theresa straightened her black tank top, staring critically at her cleavage. She pushed at her chest, studying the effect of her new bra. Nice. The trick to it was getting out the front door without Eva seeing her, and then she'd be set...
"Turn around right now and march back to your room, young lady, you are not stepping foot outside this house in that."
She rolled her eyes and leaned her arms on the hallway table. "Arturo, give it up."
He folded his arms, blocking the exit to the living room in a threatening manner. "I'm not kidding. No sister of mine is going to a Trey Atwood party dressed like that."
She angled her shoulders suggestively. "Don't I look like a real woman?"
"Too real. Change. Now."
"No!"
"Then I'm not driving you to the party."
"Then I guess I'll bike over with Ryan."
He shook his head. "Don't you know what the boys will think of you in that top?"
"Uh huh. And it's exactly what I want them to think," she said with a somber expression.
"No way."
She pushed him gently out of the way as she started for the bathroom and her make-up collection. "I'm almost sixteen now, and I'm going to do my part to act it. Deal."
He hung in the doorway watching her apply her make-up. "Is it necessary for you to wear that much lipstick?"
"I'm not wearing half as much as Portia Blackwell does, and you were all over her."
He didn't blink. "Yeah. I was. And I don't want anybody all over you like that."
"Portia Blackwell is somebody's sister too, ya know."
"Yeah, but not mine." A slight grin crossed his face at that.
She paused mid-eyeliner application and turned slowly to stare at him. "You're impossible."
The doorbell rang. "Yeah, yeah," Arturo groaned, going over to answer it. "If that's Ryan it's almost time to go, so get a move on."
She brushed a layer of blush across her cheeks and puckered her lips in the mirror before prancing out to the front hall.
"Whoa," Ryan said without thinking as she made her grand entrance. She briefly studied him up and down. As usual, nothing. He wasn't even wearing an open shirt, the usual sign that he was dressing up. Just a t-shirt, his regular two-layered jackets, and an older pair of pants. Like a fucking uniform. He had barely even bothered to comb his hair. The clothes were like an alarm, warning everybody to back off. Everybody except for Theresa.
She noticed his eyes inadvertently leaping to the dimple at the top of her tank, and she glanced away, not wanting to do anything to keep him from looking. She rather liked the attention. One little piece of clothing and the guys couldn't keep their eyes off. She liked it. It was minimalism. It was power. It was control.
She casually slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, tilting her elbows back, hoping to accentuate the effect.
"So we're taking the new car?" Theresa asked, raising her eyebrows as she pranced past the boys into the front yard.
"Uh... yeah," Arturo said, and she glanced around to see him clocking Ryan's every ogle. "It's... around back."
She led the way, enjoying the eyes on her. She made sure to swing her hips a little as they rounded the house. And she knew without looking that Ryan was enjoying the show.
She swung her way into the back seat of the LeBaron and the boys climbed into the front.
"Wow," Theresa said, checking it out and fingering the upholstery. "This is one sexy ride."
"Oh, yeah," Arturo said, beaming proudly from the front.
"This car is hot, right?" Ryan asked.
"That's what I just said," Theresa said, confused.
"No, it's not," the guys said at once.
"Oh." It suddenly dawned on Theresa. "Arturo!"
"It's not anymore. Paint job, new plates, you dig?" he insisted. "And don't breathe a word to Ma." He wagged a finger at the rearview mirror.
"I wouldn't," she said.
"Yeah, she's cool," Ryan added. "Hey, you got a cigarette? I left mine at home."
With a sigh, Theresa dug in her purse and produced a cigarette, leaning forward to hand it to him in the front seat. She pulled one out for herself as well.
"Light?" Ryan prodded, and she practically threw her Bic at him. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, blinking. "Oops."
Ryan passed the lighter back and leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes as he took a drag.
"Hey, kid, smoke out the window, would ya? Don't stink up my car." Arturo revved the car out from behind the house. "And I have been looking forward to this thing all week."
"Yeah, man, me, too," Ryan piped up. He exhaled smoke out the open window. "Summer, it's really here, right?"
"I'm dreading it," Theresa said. "I don't get why your brother had to invite those moron chicks."
"So we can have fun with them while you behave yourself," Arturo snapped.
"Yeah, behave yourself, Theresa," Ryan added, a wry grin around his cigarette.
"I will kick your ass, Atwood, don't think I won't," she threatened.
"I believe you." Yet his tone? Not so convincing.
"Hey. That's my cigarette you're smoking."
Cars were packed on the street around Trey's building. The pounding music led them to his apartment, and as she crawled out of the car, Theresa could hear the shattering of glass and the squeals, alternating between delight and horror.
"Behave yourself," Arturo admonished her again. In response, Theresa offered him both middle fingers and charged for the crowd, escaping before he could either yell at her or attempt to put more clothes on her.
"Theresa!" Eddie seemed to materialize from nowhere, dissolving into existence from a sea of strange faces. "You look..."
"...Nice?" she filled in when it seemed he wasn't getting the words. She laughed. "Yeah, I didn't think so, either. Hey, Ryan and Arturo are around, where do I get a beer in this place?"
"The kitchen-" was all Eddie could say before she took off. She knew where Trey's kitchen was, which was good, because she'd never be able to even guess with all these people blocking the way.
She really had more clothes on than a good proportion of the girls here. She had to find a way of getting herself to these parties without depending on Arturo for transportation. She could get a lot further, have a lot more fun if-
"Ohmigod!" She turned, trying to hide her pained expression, to see Becca in some sort of bikini-halter top hybrid, sandwiched between the thighs of one Trey Atwood, who was perched on top of the counter tilting a Budweiser back into his mouth. He promptly let out a belch loud enough to carry over the crowd.
Theresa scuttled for the obligatory hug, careful not to get too close to any embarrassing parts of Ryan's brother's anatomy. Or too close to Becca, for that matter.
"Great party," she offered to Trey.
"What?" he yelled, cupping the hand clutching the Bud to his ear.
"Party!" she tried again, and offered a thumbs-up.
"Yeah!" Trey screamed with enthusiasm, pulling Becca in, still turned in Theresa's direction. He held her in with his beer-free arm, which she clutched protectively in turn. "Great!"
She took the opportunity to slip into the kitchen crowd, but there seemed to be very little chance of getting a beer through this mob. She stood on her tiptoes, raising her high heels off the floor, craning her neck to see if she could spot a possible destination.
"Looking for one of these?"
Theresa turned in the direction of the tap on her shoulder and saw a guy standing there smiling at her. She was pretty sure she didn't recognize him, but he was holding out a Coors Light, which was a good thing, and so she relaxed and took it, returning his smile.
"Aw, thanks," she said loudly above the din, "it was looking a little bit impossible there."
"Now we can get out of here," he said, "right?"
She paused and glanced around. She could see Trey whispering something in Becca's ear to crack her up, but Ryan, Eddie and Arturo were nowhere to be seen.
"Follow me," she said, taking a deep breath, and she led him through the mob, out the front door, and down to the sidewalk.
"Fresh air," the guy said, and she turned around to study him. Not bad, really, in the streetlights in front of the apartment building. Tall, dark hair, bit of a craggy face, good build, nice, thin-lipped smile. Solidly built, which was perfectly appealing. Small nose, light-colored eyes. Okay.
"I'm Mike," he said.
"Theresa."
"Hi, Theresa. So," he said, holding up his own Bud, "did I get you the right drink?"
"I love Coors Light," she said, popping off the cap and taking a swig. She swallowed.
He winced. "Not too much, huh?"
She shrugged. "Eh, beer is beer." She hesitated. "I'm actually... not much of a beer drinker."
"No? What's your drink of choice?"
"I'm kind of a wimp, really," she admitted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Give me an alco-pop any day."
He laughed. Mike had a nice laugh. Nice smile. She relaxed a little more, shaking her shoulders out. He was staring at her cleavage, too. She was working the shirt. It was a good thing.
"The girly stuff, huh?"
"Well, in some respects, I can't really escape my gender," Theresa admitted, wondering even as she said it if she should be dumbing it down more. Shorter words. More giggles. Don't talk too much.
"Clearly," he said. She caught the sparkle in his eyes, and felt at once flattered and flustered.
"So, uh, you from Chino?" she asked, taking another sip of beer.
"Eh. Sort of. Los Serranos." He reached to wipe the beer from his mouth.
"Yeah?" Not too far. Theresa jutted her boobs out just a little and tilted her chin down. She hoped she wasn't wiping off too much of her lipstick on the foul beer. So not worth it.
"You are a very pretty girl," Mike said, moving closer. "Anybody ever tell you that?"
"Sometimes," she said slyly.
"You want to, uh, go for a walk?" Mike asked, indicating casually with his beer.
Theresa glanced around, her heart racing. She didn't see Arturo or Eddie or Trey, but she did see Ryan. In the yard. Holding a beer. Talking to Lily.
And then she saw Ryan laugh, his eyes lighting up with actual happiness.
"Sure," she said with a deep breath, turning away from Ryan, back to Mike, "let's go."