Just A Small Town Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

deliberation during which the guy in the backseat eye fucked me aggressively, I climbed into the back of the jeep less gracefully than Seph had and settled in, holding on as Brad drove well above the speed limit.
    If this was what being a wild girl looked like, constant recklessness and nervous tension, I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it.
    The Jeep came to a stop in front of a small bar with every window lit up in neon advertisement and we all climbed out. Seph claimed we had to use the restroom and led me to a table in the back where Puck and Rick sat. They raised their mason jars full of beer in greeting and returned to their conversation about tits versus ass as if we’d never arrived.
    “Want a drink Piper?” Seph adjusted her boobs as she asked.
    “I’m only 19,” I shrugged, smiling shyly.
    Seph laughed at me, “So? Nobody cares here, or really anywhere in town to be honest,” she pulled me to the bar by my arm and force fed me three shots before placing a frosted margarita glass into my fingers and leading me back toward the table.
    Halfway there Stu or Ben from the backseat of the Jeep stopped me.
    “Oh I thought we lost you,” he smiled wickedly, probably completely understanding we only used them for a ride, but unwilling to let me get away with it.
    “I, I um…” I craned my neck in search of Seph, but she was gone.
    “She’s here with me Stu,” Puck’s voice emerged as his arm wrapped around my waist.
    “Sorry Puck,” Stu put his hands up and backed away, intimidated fear washing across his features.
    “I’m here with you?” I asked, smiling up at Puck’s boyish face.
    “For now,” he laughed out, using his hand on my waist to pull me toward the dance floor, “don’t spill your drink on me Piper,” he warned and I felt like a naughty child, but I still danced with him, being very mindful of the glass in my hand.
    After the song was over the owner stepped onto a small platform that served as the stage.
    “Karaoke’s open ya’ll,” he announced and stepped off the stage as if everyone was supposed to know exactly what that meant. A few seconds later I realized everyone did know exactly what that meant. I watched as drunk girls stepped up and sang songs by pop idols very badly and everyone else danced. During a rousing rendition of Like a Virgin I decided I’d had enough and made my way back to the table for more shots and another margarita.
    “You should sing Piper,” Seph cried, pushing me out of our booth.
    I just stared at her harshly. I didn’t sing and I definitely didn’t do karaoke.
    “Okay fine Pipe, be a downer,” she frowned into her drink.
    “Be a pipe dream,” Rick supplied, trying to please Seph.
    “Fuck that, be a wet dream,” Puck smiled at his joke and I glared at all three of them.
    I downed the rest of my margarita before excusing myself to the bathroom. I wasn’t having fun and I wasn’t sure if the appeal of having a friend was worth the peer pressure and resulting mild annoyance.
    When I walked out of the dimly lit hallway where the bathrooms were located a drunk girl was belting out the last lines of an 80s power ballad and I watched an attractive guy with a shaved head jump on stage after her.
    I started to make my way back to my table while he spoke into the microphone announcing something about a preview of talent and a show later, then the crowd screamed wildly and I turned back toward the stage to see the dark haired man of mystery who’d run into me the day I moved in and scolded me for sleeping with Riley.
    “I’m from Fisherman’s Wharf and Kyle is making me do this,” he took a sip of water from a mason jar and pulled a piece of paper from the giant speaker where everyone was signing up for their turns at karaoke. “Okay, I’m singing a duet, but I left the other part blank because I have no partner.” He took a second to read the paper and threw it back to the speaker before raising the microphone to his lips again. He lowered his