Free After Tuesday by Renee Ericson Page B

I finish eating my food and crumble the wrapper, placing it in the bag. “What’s wrong with Mr. Audi?”
    “Nothing! Damn, girl. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch, or maybe you should because I bet that douche wants nothing more than to just get in your pants. Mr. Suave and Moneybags seems like a bit of a tool to me. I bet he even plays guitar or some whiney ass shit like that.”
    “Ya know, not everyone’s actions are based on raging hormones.”
    “Yes, yes they are, especially guys. Some just hide it behind nice cars and douche-bag hair.”
    “Oh man, do they also have good manners and chivalry? Because I thought that was an anti-douche trait. Since when do you care who I date?” He’s seriously pissing me off now.
    “Whatever,” he says, throwing his hands in the air as he shakes his head.
    He grabs his bag of fast-food breakfast and crawls out of the tent. Standing up, he turns to face me before reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He pulls out two wrappers and tosses them in my lap. What the hell? Condoms? Really? After one date, my cousin thinks he can have a sex talk with me. Gross.
    “Just make sure to use those when the douche makes his moves. Remember, no glove, no love,” Cody says, pointing to the individually wrapped condoms in my lap before turning toward the house.
    Tact has never been Cody’s specialty. I know he’s trying to somehow, in his own way, do the right thing. Really though? C’mon. Message heard, but a little delicacy would be appreciated next time. So gross.
    I grab my things, take down the tent, and then head inside to get ready for the day.  I briefly check in on my dad who’s passed out on his bed, thanks to Cody. Cody might be a prick by nature, but I know he’s more than that. His presentation of the condoms he gave me wasn’t the best, but it was his way of being helpful. It still doesn’t make him Mother Theresa.
    I wait outside on the front stoop at 9:50 for Brent to arrive. He pulls into the driveway at exactly ten o’clock. I’m so excited to get out of here that I don’t even wait for the car to stop as I walk up to the passenger door.
    “Hey,” Brent says as he gets out of the car.
    “Hi,” I say cheerfully.
    I open the car door and get in before he has a chance to come around. I hope he’s not too bothered that I didn’t wait for him to open it for me.  I think my excitement is getting in the way of my manners. He returns to the driver’s seat and puts the car into reverse.
    “You look really nice. Are you ready to go?” he asks in a tone matching my enthusiasm.
    “Thanks. Yeah, I’m ready,” I respond, smoothing out my skirt with the palms of my hands. I wasn’t sure where we would be going today, so I decided to go casual with a knee-length white skirt and a plain purple tank top.
    We don’t drive far before I realize we’re going to the boat club. Brent parks his car at the farthest point from the dock. He grabs a bag from the backseat before we get out and head toward the water. At the edge of the lot, I begin to turn right, walking toward the slips, but Brent grabs my hand and pulls me to the left.
    “Aren’t we going sailing? Isn’t that the surprise?” I ask, slowing my steps.
    “Oh, we’ll go sailing sometime if you want, just not today. I have something else in mind. Plus, it’s not a surprise if you already know what it is.”
    Yeah, he’s enjoying this.
    When we arrive at the end of the trail, I see a huge rack of canoes lined up with paddles leaning up against a shed.
    “Lexi said you like to canoe. What do you think?” he asks, gesturing to the row of canoes.
    “Is this the surprise? Are we going canoeing?”
    “Well, it’s part of it. Are you disappointed?”
    “No, not at all!”
    “All right then. Let’s get going.”
    We take down one of the canoes and place it at the edge of the lake. He hands me a paddle and puts his paddle along with his bag inside the boat. I get in, sitting near the bow,