Say something devastatingly sexy!

"If I never get to hang out with both of you in the same room ever ever again, I think it's very fitting that I am touching both your penises right now," you announce.

There's a short silence while they look at you, then each other, and then you again.

"I don't actually think you are?" Scott says after a second. "Not to burst your bubble or anything. But. Strictly speaking."

"No," you disagree. "I can feel it against my ankle."

"That's my phone," he says.

You shake your head firmly.

"It actually is his phone," Dex says, and you twist around a little to make a face at him.

"Fine," you say. "Thanks for reminding that the only person who finds me attractive is Scott's phone."

"Not a person," Scott says in the particular smallish voice that means he's trying very hard not to laugh.

Dex busts out laughing. "Are you trying to get hurt? You have to hold her feet down if you're gonna say shit like that!"

"Right," Scott says, and pins both your feet against his thigh. You start to sit up, except Scott quickly says to Dex, "Shit! Get her!" and Dex grabs you and holds you down.

You're already starting to giggle even before Scott gets your armpits. "No fair! No fair! Stop!" you shriek, writhing and kicking.

Suddenly they both do stop, abruptly, looking anywhere but at you.

You collapse against them and lie there a second, heaving and getting your breath back. "Oh, wow," you say after a second. "Now I for sure can feel your penises! You guys both have a tickle kink or something!"

"Jesus Christ, Birdie," Dex complains, "put your fucking top back on for godsake! And quit saying penis."

You look down at yourself in surprise. Oh. Yep. Those are your tits.

It's probably just that you're still quite drunk, but this strikes you as about the funniest thing you've ever heard in your whole life. "Penis, penis, everywhere, nor any drop to drink!" you lament cheerfully, which makes them both turn red and shove part of you off their laps.

"Fine," you say after a moment. "I'll put my boobs away and you can hide your tickle boners from me and whatever the fuck. Like it even matters." You sit partway up, then begin struggling with the ties to your top, while they both sit there red-faced with tented crotches. After a minute or two of you failing to get it refastened, Scott takes the strings away from you and motions to Dex, who makes an awkward face but gingerly scoops your boobs back into the cups of your bikini top. Scott reties it, and you don't really feel welcome to sprawl back over them again so you sit on the edge of the couch with your face flaming, feeling like a stupid, unattractively thirsty, hag.

You really honestly never pictured that the first ever boy to touch your naked boobs would look so mortified and disgusted about it. You also never figured that boy would be Dex. Even worse, in a way.

Right now you really want nothing more than to be out of their presence. You can't leave the cabin. They definitely won't let you do that, and they're both stronger and more coordinated than you since you're still wasted. You already had one good cry tonight so you really don't want to do that in front of them again if you can help it. If there's anything worse than being the idiot drunk horny bitch coming on to people who want nothing to do with her, it's being that plus acting like some weepy stereotype.

Fuck.

You plant your hands on the couch beside yourself, bracing yourself to stand. "Thanks for the Sprite," you tell Scott. "I'm gonna go to bed actually." And maybe never wake up again, if there's any justice in the universe.

There isn't, you're already aware of that. The universe is going to make you wake up every stupid day and remember how ugly Dex thinks your stupid boobs are, for the rest of your whole stupid life.

You get shakily to your feet, and the two of them half rise, but you wave them off and they're probably still stuck with their dumb accidental boners because they both take the out and don't insist on helping.

They can just bunk in the room you've been sharing with Dex, you think vaguely as you make your way carefully to the room Scott's been sleeping in. You're a stupid person who makes stupid choices, so this should come as no surprise. They should know by now that you stealing Scott's bed is just another piece of evidence that Bridget makes stupid bitch choices and ruins everything.

You tumble into the bed, wriggle over next to the wall, and reach for your phone only to realize you left it in the other room since you're wearing a bikini, sort of, and have zero pockets. Ugh. And it's so annoyingly, not after sunset, in here. You cover your face with your arms.