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But Sera didn’t know how to ask Pauline, who had been born bursting with sexuality, what she wanted to ask. So she just blurted it out.

“Aunt Pauline, what do I do?

Pauline’s hawklike features crinkled in surprise before realization set in. “You mean, when you’re with the boy? Oh, that’s simple. You do what you want to do, Bliss. No more, no less.” She touched her niece’s cheek fondly. “You don’t need a refresher on our safe sex talk, do you?”

Sera frantically shook her head. That’d been one conversation she wouldn’t soon forget. Souvenirs from that discussion had included a rainbow assortment of condoms, a semester-long self-defense class, and a prescription for birth control pills Sera had no intention of filling until she was in college.

“Don’t forget you’re a strong, confident, beautiful young woman,” Pauline reminded her, resettling Sera’s denim jacket collar so that it lay properly against her neck. “You deserve the best. After all, kiddo, you’re my niece.” She drew Sera into a fierce, patchouli-scented hug. “Go get ’em, Tiger.”

But it was Robbie who turned out to be the tiger, growling and nuzzling her neck like a wild animal the minute he’d shuffled her through their obligatory first dance. In an alarmingly chaperone-free corner of the gymnasium, he boxed Sera in and began smothering her surprised mouth with deep, slurping, porno-inspired kisses. In the background, Hanson’s “MMMBop” played at deafening volume, further nauseating Sera.

Sera pulled back. “Robbie—Robbie, whoa!” She grabbed his hand, shocked, and yanked it away from where it was crushing her breast. “What are you doing?” Robbie’s fingers abandoned the battle for her boob and swooped down to make a grab for her butt. Before she could so much as gasp her shock, he’d gotten a handful and squeezed—hard. His mouth dive-bombed her neck, sucking in a way she was sure must leave hickeys.

Hickeys! she thought, horrified. God, everyone will see! She’d always found love bites revolting when girls walked down the halls proudly displaying them like brands of possession by the strutting, preening boyfriends who strolled beside them. And though most girls at their school might kill to sport a Robbie Markham™ hickey, Sera was becoming surer by the moment that she wasn’t one of them.

Robbie began pressing his lower body against hers, and Sera grew even uneasier. There was a hardness there, poking her, and she didn’t think it was his belt buckle.

“Robbie, stop it!” she cried, pushing against his chest. It took almost all her strength to create some breathing room between them, and his hand was still kneading her ass like a baker with a vendetta against his dough. “What are you doing?” she asked again. She swiped a trembling hand across her slobber-spattered lips.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked glassily.

Sera had already tasted the stale malt liquor on his breath, so she guessed he’d been hitting the forty ounces from the corner bodega pretty hard. Maybe if he’d offered me a forty, she thought, I’d be enjoying this more. What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be thrilled to have the hottest boy in school mauling her—and what’s more, mauling her in public where everyone could see? But she wasn’t. “Skeeved out” was the term that came to mind. Of all the romantic fantasies she’d entertained—Robbie parading her down the halls proudly, Robbie dipping her expertly in a dance—this definitely hadn’t been one of them.

“Um… could we, just, you know… slow things down a little?” she squeaked.

Robbie looked confused. “Why would we want to slow down? Speeding up is the fun part.” He bumped his crotch against hers illustratively. Those dreamy brown eyes—eyes all the girls sighed over—were glazed over in a way Sera didn’t like. “I know you know what I’m talking about.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m all about giving a girl like you what she needs.”

“A… girl like me?” she sputtered.

“Yeah. A girl with experience.” He squeezed her butt meaningfully, trying to move in close again.

“Experience?” Sera’s brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded with a bit more heat.

Robbie’s confused expression was darkening to sullen as the wheels turned visibly in his mind. Why did I never notice how dumb he is? Sera wondered. “Come on, babe,” he pouted. “Don’t go all frigid on me. Everyone at school knows you’re that sex professor’s kid. Bet she taught you some hot shit. Show me what you got, sex kitty,” he muttered, making little “meow” sounds Sera found revolting. “Give me what I came for. C’mon, kiss me.” His lips loomed, wet and reddened.

Sera shoved harder. “Get off me, Robbie,” she hissed. She looked around, not wanting to call attention to her predicament—the whole school would be gossiping about it if they saw her wrestling with Robbie like an outraged virgin—never mind that I am an outraged virgin, Sera thought hysterically—but hoping for a chaperone who could break things up without making it her fault. Then his words began to really penetrate.

“Wait a minute, what do you mean, what you came for?” she asked. She tried to make her voice firm, but it wouldn’t fully obey her. She pried his hand off her ass and took a step sideways, out of his grasp. “I thought…” Sera wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. She darted a glance her date’s way, and her stomach clenched. Robbie looked pissed. No, he looked thwarted, and from the tightness in his face, it wasn’t an experience he was used to. When Robbie Markham made a pass, girls were supposed to swoon.

“What, you thought I liked you?” he sneered, looking her up and down disdainfully. Sera felt every imperfection cataloged in that stare, from her short stature to her less-than-skinny frame and hair that just wouldn’t “do the Rachel” no matter how hard her stylist tried.

Then Robbie did something that hurt worse. He started to laugh.

He guffawed in big, incredulous whoops that began to draw looks from across the dance floor. “You thought—what, that you were going to be my girlfriend now? Oh my God. Seriously? Get over yourself. I don’t even remember your name, freak show. I just want what you give up for all the guys.” He grabbed her crotch, and Sera’s mind went blank with horror. Her knee, however, had absorbed Pauline’s lessons in self-defense well, and it gave Robbie Markham’s balls the kiss he’d been asking for—times a hundred.

Sera left Robbie squealing on the gymnasium floor, clutching his family jewels and encircled by a crowd of gawking classmates.

Returning to school on Monday was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She’d spent the weekend avoiding her aunt’s avid questions about her date and obsessing over whether she’d committed social suicide as badly as she feared. But all seemed well; no one harassed her or even mentioned the incident…

Until she opened her locker after third period.

Only to be deluged by a hard rain of dildos.

Dozens upon dozens of them poured from the small space out onto the linoleum floor, bouncing and rolling as, behind her, Sera heard her fellow students howling with laughter. Her face flamed bright red and she spun around.

Robbie stood surrounded by a gaggle of his groupies, arms folded over the front of his letterman jacket. What felt like half the school had gathered in that third-floor hallway, apparently alerted ahead of time that something was afoot. Some of them were laughing so hard they had tears running down their cheeks. But Robbie just glared at her. “Figured these must be more your style, freak show,” he taunted. “Well, have fun with them. Sure as shit no boy at this school’s ever going to ask your frigid ass out again.”