Dirty Sex

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Authors: Ashley Bartlett
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Mystery & Detective, Lesbian
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standing in the
    flaccid tent holding the ceiling above his head. Ryan and Derek were
    spinning in circles trying to fit pins into the poles.
    “Cooper,” Austin screamed. “Stop staring, build poles.”
    “Five minutes,” Reese shouted.
    I ran to the pile of poles, tore off the rubber bands, stuffed them in
    my pockets, and started fitting the first pole together.
    “First one,” I yelled to Kerry and Austin. They grabbed it and
    started feeding it through. When I finished the third pole, I opened the
    rain cover like Kerry had done.
    “Hold the middle, Coop,” Austin instructed me. They pushed both
    poles in the air and we started tying again.
    When I began pounding in the stakes Reese called out, “Seven
    minutes.” We were getting close. The guys were putting on their rain
    cover. Austin ran back to the first tent and shoved all the nylon bags
    and such into the tent bag. I fished around in my pocket and pushed the
    rubber bands into Kerry’s waiting hand. I hit the remaining stake into
    the soft ground.
    • 57 •

    AShley BArtlett
    Austin ran back to the fire pit. I grabbed Kerry’s arm and dragged
    her with me.
    “Done,” Austin shrieked the second we joined him. Triumphantly,
    Austin handed Reese our tent bags.
    Reese took the bags calmly and said, “I’ll check.”
    Behind us, the guys finished with their stakes and clean up. They
    sprinted to the fire pit and started wishing one of our tents would fall
    over.Reese circled our first tent. She shook it, nothing happened.
    Lightly, she tugged on each pole. They stayed in the ground. The guys
    looked pissed. After the same inspection of the second tent, we waited
    for the verdict.
    “Ryan, Carson, Derek.” Reese somberly touched each of them on
    the shoulder. “Have fun with the air mattresses.”
    For hours, we had to hear about how unfair the competition was.
    ❖
    The first day was uneventful. We spent most of it setting up camp
    and walking around aimlessly. In the afternoon, Ryan managed to
    convince Reese to join in an impromptu game of football down by the
    lake. We put her and Derek on the same team because they pretty much
    amounted to one player. Derek was a disgrace. And Reese didn’t give
    a fuck.
    The next morning, I woke up first, as usual. I started the fire and
    the first pot of coffee. Sleeping while camping isn’t fun. It’s too cold
    and uncomfortable so I always went to bed last and woke up first.
    Reese was the next one up. We didn’t talk. I listened to my iPod.
    She read a book.
    “Is that one good?” I asked.
    “Yeah.” Reese turned the book and glanced at the cover. “I’ll let
    you borrow it when I’m done.”
    I nodded. “I left a stack for you with Ryan.”
    “He gave them to me,” she said.
    We went back to our own shit.
    “Do you want to help me with breakfast?” I asked once the sun
    was actually visible. “I’m sure they’ll wake up soon.”
    “Sure.” Her eyes never left the page. “Let me finish this chapter.”
    • 58 •

    Dirty Sex
    I left her to it. The food was all in Ryan’s car so I started hauling
    out the stuff we would need. We had learned during our second year of
    camping that the rangers weren’t joking about bears. After that, we put
    the food away and covered the ice chests every time.
    “Let me help you.” Reese joined me when I got to the big ice
    chests. We each grabbed a handle and lugged the coolers out. “You
    want a Bloody Mary?” she asked as we set the last one down.
    I looked up to see if she was serious. Reese wasn’t a big drinker
    anyway, let alone this early. She looked serious.
    “We’re camping,” she said by way of an explanation. “Plus,
    Carson did a homemade mix.”
    Carson did make one hell of a Bloody Mary. “Sure, why not? We
    are camping.”
    Reese smiled and dug around in the cooler until she found an
    unlabeled bottle with a ruddy brown liquid. She was more liberal with
    the mix than the vodka.
    “Here.” She handed me a camping mug, one of

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