Sylvia
The wall had always been too thin, and tonight they were using my name like a c**k.
I was nineteen, home from college for the break, and Cameron had three boys in his room with a bottle they thought our parents couldn’t hear. Mom and Dad were downstairs with the TV up. It didn’t matter. I had learned in high school that this wall told the truth. Tonight the truth was me.
“Sylvia’s ass in those gym shorts,” Seth said, drunk and clear. “This morning. Bent over the counter. That thing didn’t hide anything. Round. Perfect. I wanted to flip her over the sink.”
Derek laughed. “She got hot. That’s the problem. College did something. t**s, mouth, the way she walks. I’d f**k her till she blacked out and say thank you.”
I was on my bed in a sleep shirt and nothing I was proud of. My hand
