Read Online Olivia Christakos and Her Second First Time by Dani Irons - Free Book Online Page A

pain. “Not like that,” I hiss.
    Wyatt steps back, face flamed and eyes wild. They shine with either irritation or embarrassment. But no way am I going to have some strange Cub Scout stick his tongue in my mouth. “Then
how?
” he asks.
    I shrug, twisting my lips into a half smile. I like seeing him aggravated.
    He scrunches up his face as if disgusted with me. He watches me a long time, long enough to make me uncomfortable. I’m about to say something to him, to tell him to stop staring at me, when he says, “You have a mole in between your...b-breasts.” The word sounds foreign on his tongue, like he’s never in his life had to use the word
breasts.
“You like to call it your third nipple.” He turns to walk out of the room and, without looking at me, says, “Not even your best friend knows about that one. You swore me to secrecy.”
    And then he’s gone, leaving me alone to peek inside my shirt.

Chapter Eight
    Fifth Grade
    Wyatt and I were left to our own devices in the family room, stocked up with scary movies, sleeping bags, and burnt popcorn while my parents went up to bed. There was a woman at St. John’s who needed watching overnight because they thought she might hurt herself and Wyatt’s mom volunteered to do the watching. Which left Tartar Sauce staying over, since his dad was working.
    Mom tried to make it fun—she knew I wasn’t a fan of him coming over—and she let us order whatever pizza we wanted and said we could watch movies until dawn, if we wanted. I was sporting my new black-and-pink silk pajamas that I’d spotted in a catalog and just had to have, and Wyatt was in old flannel pajama pants and a white T-shirt.
    Wyatt got too scared to watch the movies—he didn’t say that, but I could tell. He jumped a lot and wouldn’t look at the screen. He’d even pretended to go to sleep but his body kept convulsing with each note of loud music or scream.
    So I’d muted the TV. “Truth or dare.”
    He rolled over with a smile. “Dare.”
    “I dare you open that bottle of whiskey,” I pointed to the bar, my father’s drink of choice front and center. “And stick your tongue in for ten seconds.”
    His smile went all crooked. “Easy.” He stood, peered up the stairs for any sign of my parents, and grabbed the bottle. With a wink, he stuck his tongue in.
    I counted to ten.
    When he brought his tongue back into his mouth, he made a face and replaced the bottle. “That was disgusting.”
    “But kind of fun, right?”
    He nodded, looking a lot less scared than he had a few minutes ago. “Okay,” he said, returning to his sleeping bag. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
    “Truth.” I wasn’t in the mood to do something embarrassing.
    He thought for a minute, reclining back onto his pillow. “Tell me something that not even Chloe knows about.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Chloe knows everyth...” I stopped, remembering something. “I have a third nipple. Well, sorta.” Then, without any hesitation, I lifted up my shirt. Mom had bought me my first bra the day before. I had been the last to get one out of all my friends and I was super proud of it—proud enough to wear it while I was sleeping. No one knew Wyatt came over to my house because he and I decided not to tell anyone—well, I threatened him within an inch of his life and he obeyed—so whatever happened here, stayed here.
    Wyatt’s eyes boggled and he turned red, then purple. His body was so still, like he was made of wax, but he kept his eyes on me.
    “See?” I said, pointing to the quarter-sized mole in between my boobs. “But if I hear that you told anyone,” I let my shirt fall back down. “I might have to kill you.”
    He said nothing but his redness began to recede. His eyes were still wide.
    “Okay? I want to hear you promise.”
    He nodded.
    “Not good enough. Say, ‘Olivia Christakos, queen of everything, I promise not to tell a soul about thy third nipple thingy.’”
    “I promise,” he said, and I allowed it.