Page 6 of Taking A Chance

“Excuse me, Sir,” he shouts to the barman, but his eyes stay firmly fixed on me. “Two bottles of champagne please, but only uncork the one and four glasses.” He picks up on my confused expression instantly. “Why don’t we go join Kat and Ben? I’m sure they’ll be happy to help us take care of these.” He waves the two bottles in his hands. I thread my fingers through the stems of the glasses, three in one hand and the fourth in the other.

“What’s up, Cowboy, getting bored with me already?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

“On the contrary,” he leans in and whispers. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, and the best way to keep me in check is for you to have a couple of chaperones.”

I make sure I’m behind Petra when we walk over to the table where my brother, Ben is sitting with Kat. That way, I get the perfect view of her round ass. If I didn’t have my hands full, I’d be tempted to touch. Kat and Ben must be getting along, because their heads are quite close together and they’re laughing.

“Hi, you two, are you going to let us in on the joke?” I hear Petra ask.

“I’m not sure that we should?” Ben replies, tapping his bottom lip with his index finger. “What do you think, Kat?”

“We have champagne.” I hold out the two bottles.

“I have glasses,” Petra adds to my attempt at bribery.

“In that case, you absolutely get my vote,” Kat giggles.

“I guess you better take a seat,” Ben stands, and pulls out a chair for Petra as she places the glasses on the table. “And you brother, better pour.”

Ben explains he was recounting some of our childhood antics. Most of which I ended up being the butt of the joke. By the time we had finished the second bottle and had gained a third from the bar, Ben had got to our teenage years.

When he started the story about my first sexual experience, I shoot him a stare that clearly says, shut the fuck up or I’m going to rip you a new asshole. The problem is, Ben never knows when to stop. His mouth goes faster than his brain and the fact that he’s pissed doesn’t help the situation. So, he just carries on.

“Oh, no!” Petra is laughing so hard that she can hardly get the words out. “Your first time going down on a girl...” she struggles to get her breath, “and she farted?”

I rub my hand down my face, exasperated. This is not how I envisioned this going.

“And you ran?” Petra is now holding her stomach, her laughter uncontrollable and gaining us more and more attention. “That is so fucking hilarious.”

“Shh! Come on, give me a break.” I try to explain myself. “I was only sixteen and was as nervous as shit.”

“Scared by a queef,” Petra’s not letting it go. She’s pretty well gone herself, and her words are a little slurred. “You do know that if queefs were skittles, you might have tasted the rainbow.”

“What the fuck?” I can’t help but laugh along with her crazy comment. “You, lady, are trouble.”

“You, Cowboy, are an Ancraommm, an Ancraofff,” stopping, unable to say the word she’s so desperately trying to say, she takes a glug of champagne, a deep breath and then slurs out, “an Ancraophobic!”

“And what’s that?” Ben asks.

“Scared of wind,” Kat sniggers.

Petra laughs and snorts at the same time as taking another drink. Not a good move. She suddenly starts coughing and spluttering, but still continues to giggle.

“I need a pee,” she stands, now having regained some composure.

“I’ll come with you,” Kat announces, standing and linking her arm in with Petra’s before they walk in the general direction of the bathrooms.

“Back in a sec,” Petra shouts over her shoulder, almost toppling over in the process. Kat steadies her, much less affected by the alcohol we’ve consumed.

“Kat’s awesome,” Ben announces as soon as they are out of earshot. “She sure can eat. And look at her, you’d never had guessed that she’s drunk over a bottle of champagne.”

“Can’t say the same for Petra,” I laugh.

“She seems pretty cool to me,” Ben scowls.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t see her eat much at dinner, yet she’s been knocking back the drink. She’s cool. And pissed.”

“You were watching her?” Ben sniggers. “Jesus, you really like her, don’t you?”