“So… I’ll take off my shirt.” I held the hem of my shirt and slowly rolled it up. “And stay in this stall…”

  Even though it sounded like a trap, and it really was one, I still agreed to it. Not sure why. It wasn’t like I’d die if I had a ketchup on my shirt or if the stain would remain there forever. Maybe I just wanted to have some fun.

  “And I’ll wash the stain off for you,” said Deen. “You have to complete the sentence, Erind. Don’t make it sound like I have ulterior motives.”

  I stopped midway pulling my shirt up. “But you do have ulterior motives, Amber Deen Leska.”

  Deen sighed in exasperation. “Can you not be suspicious of me for once?” She grabbed my shirt and yanked it off of me. “Think of me as the older sister caring for my hapless younger sister. Stay here. I’ll be quick.”

  “Of course, I’m going to stay,” I murmured as Deen left and shut the door. “Where else would I go without my top on?”

  For a moment, I wondered if Deen would prank me and leave the restroom until I heard the sounds of flowing water. Not really in her nature to pull off a prank like some high school bully, but she might hold my shirt hostage to get me to promise stuff. But that was unlikely. Ninety-seven percent I was certain that Deen would return to this stall to assault me. Which was much worse?

  Probably the first one. I’d enjoy the second.

  A knock on the stall door. “Erind, it’s me,” said Deen.

  “Really? I was under the impression that you were somebody else even though no one has entered the restroom.”

  “Don’t be sassy with me.” She knocked again. I could imagine her annoyed face. “Open up so I can return your shirt.”

  “You can also throw it over the door.” I raised my hand and waved at her on the other side. “Give it here.”

  “I’m going to leave with your shirt if you don’t let me in.”

  That was probably enough teasing. I opened the door and said, “You could’ve tossed me my shirt, wait for like five seconds for me to get dressed, and then we’ll be on our way. No need for you to come in. You’re going to break your promise, aren’t you?”

  Deen closed the door behind her while putting on a fake confused look. “What promise are you talking about?” I could tell she enjoyed our banter.

  “The promise not to do any shenanigans for the day.” I wrapped my arms around my chest, making myself smaller. I bowed my head while looking up at Deen with unsure eyes. I just knew she’d get turned on by me acting all submissive, my demented pervert best friend. “I’m assuming you intend to break that since you’re still not giving me my shirt back.”

  “We have to let it dry first, duh.” Deen hung my shirt on the door handle. “You’re not going to wear a wet shirt, are you? And why are you hiding your boobs? There’s not much to hide.”

  “Ha, ha, and also, ha. Not an overused joke at all.” I lowered my arms but continued to hug my abdomen to look vulnerable. “I’m just wary you’ll attack me. You don’t have a good track record so far, you bully.”

  “I’m not bullying you. I just misbehave sometimes, is all.”

  “That so? Maybe I should buy a spritz bottle to spray you when you misbehave.”

  Deen stepped forward. “Thankfully, you don’t have a spritz bottle yet because I’m planning to misbehave right now.” She stepped again, closing the gap between us, her boobs about to bump my face.

  I retreated. The front of the toilet touched the back of my legs. I had to sit down on the toilet seat cover. Cornered. We were both alone in the restroom. “What sort of misbehaving do you have in mind?” I asked while pondering how to turn this situation around.

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  “Not much,” she replied, bending down until our noses touched. “I’m just going to ask for a kiss as thanks.”

  “Are you serious? Here, of all places?”

  Deen tilted her head. “Where else? Out there, next to the dinosaur skeleton?”

  “What if someone enters?” I really wasn’t sure if I should give in or not. Might be fun to mess with Deen if there were other people. Weird that it was just the two of us here. Female restrooms were usually full in any location because it was legally mandated that girls go to the restrooms in groups to perform dark magic rituals.

  “If someone enters, then we leave,” Deen said with a shrug. “If you kiss me now, we can leave. Simple concept.”

  I kept down my cheek from turning into a smirk. “A kiss where?”

  “Lips, of course.” Deen closed her eyes and formed her lips to receive mine. But she didn’t initiate, waiting for me to kiss her.

  “You look stupid,” I said, poking her cheek. Deen didn’t say anything, instead grabbing my shoulders and squeezing it. She was telling me to hurry up. Which I wasn’t going to do. I told her, “Give me my clothes first and I’ll repay you. That’s how a transaction works.”

  Deen opened her eyes and snorted. “I can tell you’re delaying, Erind Hartwell. If you think that—”

  We heard the door of the restroom swing open. Clicking soles. Two women entered, chatting to each other about it being hot outside the museum.

  Deen’s eyes widened as her face turned pale. It looked like she had seen a ghost—just a figure of speech. She wouldn’t be scared of an actual ghost if those did exist. We’ve experienced fighting monsters and killing people. But rumors about Deen doing something shameful—like making out with a girl in the restroom—spreading to the public would give her a heart attack that could overcome her super regeneration.

  Her Guardian Angel didn’t warn her about the women entering since there was no actual danger. Just do nothing and remain in our stall, and we were good.

  Of course, I was going to do something.

  I wouldn’t let this opportunity to embarrass Deen pass. But not too much that we’d actually get found out. Becoming known as an exhibitionist socialite’s girlfriend wasn’t good on its own, and more so not good as it could affect future faces of mine. Mom’s reaction? She wouldn’t be opposed to me getting it on with a girl, but she’d definitely think we were getting it on in my bedroom, which we were, and I didn’t want Mom to think that.

  “Do you still want that kiss?” I whispered to Deen. The restroom was so quiet that there was a chance the two ladies outside our stall could hear hints of my voice. “We can—”

  Deen grabbed my face to silence me. Not simply cover my mouth. Grabbed, as in she gripped the lower half of my face, her fingers digging into my cheeks and jawbone. It did hurt. She had a look of absolute fury as if she’d shoot fire out of her eyes.

  Oh-uh, I thought. Psycho Deen was in the house. There was the urge to smack her stupid head, but I was too amused and focused on planning how to mess with her. Sometimes, I found this side of her cute.

  The women outside talked about retouching makeup. They’ll be here for some time. Weird they’d care about makeup while in a museum, but whatever. Upon hearing their conversation, Deen’s eyes were filled with dread as she looked down. I could tell what she was thinking—we were in a stall in the view of the mirror. Would those two women notice a pair of legs in one stall?

  Deen wanted the answer to be a resounding no. Well, maybe not too resounding or we’d get noticed.

  She picked up my legs and wrapped them around her. Before I could wonder why she didn’t just let me sit cross-legged on the toilet cover or something, she picked me up, turned around, and then sat back down. I was on her lap facing her, my legs around her waist.

  Our leg positioning? If I hid my legs while sitting down, Deen’s legs would look weird as she remained standing. One of us had to sit and the other had to hide their legs. I supposed that the latter should be me since I was smaller. The unfairness of life. Our position was quite comfortable though, even if this would take several minutes. Not the first time I had sat on Deen’s lap.

  Deen intensely looked at the stall door as if a raiding police force would break in. I poked her cheek to get her attention, then I tapped my lips. The message was—do you still want that kiss?

  She frowned, understanding me. No doubt she blamed me for getting stuck in this situation though it was her fault. She shook her head. Hugging her, I pulled her to me. She shook her head, mouthing, ‘Don’t.”

  I pecked at her cheek. She leaned away. I targeted her neck and licked it. Shivers went up her body.

  I sucked spots on her neck, which was starting to flush red. I cupped her right breast and kneaded it as I switched to nibbling her neck.

  “Stop it, Erind,” she said in the barest of whispers.

  Looking up at her, she still had an angry face on. But her eyes were needy. I held her head and went in for a kiss.