Page 101 of Dirty Like Seth
“So you’ve been researching our dinnerguest?”
“Not long,” Seth answered her. “It didn’t take too long to realize it was a badidea.”
“What other drugs did youdo?”
“Angeline, enough.” That was mydad.
“It’s okay,” Seth said. “I did a lot of drugs. I don’t even know all the ones I tried. And I wouldn’t recommend any ofthem.”
“Really?” Angie said. “I’ve tried pot, ’shrooms, ecstasy and special K.” She shot a look at my dad. My dad gave her a look right back. “My dad hates that. That I tookketamine.”
“It’s a horse tranquilizer,daughter.”
“Really, Angie,” my mom added, “what were youthinking?”
Angie shrugged. “It was just once. A girl’s gotta experiment, youknow?”
“More coffee?” I held up the pot in Seth’s direction. His eyes met mine and he nodded. He looked amused; his slight smile seemed to say,Your family’s cute as fuck. Maybe to him, theywere.
To some families, they might seem a little eccentric or odd. But they were pretty ultra-fucking-normal in my world, since most of the people I knew, by comparison—Seth included—came from highly dysfunctional families. My parents were still in love after thirty-odd years of marriage. Dad was a successful realtor. Mom ran the house and had never worked outside the home, other than her charity work. She baked peach cobbler in a frilly apron and wore pearls, and we could openly talk about illicit drug use around the dinner table. We were picture-perfect, in a modernLeave It To Beaversort of way, and I knew that. We even got along, mostdays.
I topped up Seth’s coffee and tried to give him a look that said,Just tell Angie to shut up ifnecessary.
“Have you ever been to Japan?” my sister askedhim.
“Yes.”
“Are girls prettierthere?”
“Girls are prettyeverywhere.”
“Do you think my sister’spretty?”
“Your sister’s aknockout.”
Seth had already answered before I had a chance to stab Angie with a fork under the table. Unfortunately, she was wearing jeans, so it had littleeffect.
“Do you still have groupies throwing themselves at you? I mean, since you leftDirty?”
“Sometimes.”
“What’s thatlike?”
Seth seemed to think about that. “Uncomfortable,usually.”
“Why?”
“Because some girls are aggressive about it. And they don’t like being turned down. And if they’re fans, you really don’t want to piss them off, but sometimes, you haveto.”
“Uh-huh. How many girls have you sleptwith?”
“Angeline! Jesus Christ.” I jabbed her again. She ripped the fork from my hand beneath thetable.
“Honestly.” My mom threw up herhands.
“Baby girl,” my dadwarned.
“What’s a good answer to that question?” Seth asked mysister.
