100 Sex ed

100 Sex ed
Date = 15 August
Place = San Francisco (Inferno)

POV - Enrique

“Hey, bro, where are you guys?” I ask over the phone. “There’s still a ton of work to be done.”
There’s really not. Everything is ready.
But judging from the rasp in my own throat, I’m panicking. It’s in my voice, that edge I can’t file down. And Jackson will definitely pick it up.
Also, in the fact that this is my sixth call. I’ve counted. Six times I’ve harassed my twin today like some lovesick maniac who forgot how to breathe without a babysitter.
“We’ve roughly moved around two miles closer to the club since your previous call.” Jackson’s reply is even, patient, but there’s a faint quiver beneath the calm — annoyance held on a tight leash.
Barely audible. But it’s there. In his tone.
“I don’t know why he’s so on edge … it’s just a wedding.” Audible amidst the backdrop din, Logan gives his unwanted opinion. I let it slide … for now. But I’ll make him swallow those words the day he gets hitched. The boy clearly doesn’t know shit.
Not about weddings. Or peaching someone.
“Well, get moving. You guys need to be here before Aria comes down.” Which is still hours from now … but still.
I sound winded. Panting, as if a wrecking ball just smacked me in the stomach — by now a very familiar feeling. The one a certain girl brings about when she enters a guy’s life to descend it into complete and utter chaos.
“You do know it’s roughly an hour’s drive from the airport, right?” My twin’s making fun of me now.
“Yes.”
“And you calling every five minutes is not going to get us there faster.” His voice slides into sugar-slick sarcasm. Fucking prick.
I hang up after he ensures me, in that same honey voice, that they’ll be on time, ready to hold my hand. Assholes. I have fucking assholes for brothers.
Maybe I should have gone with them to pick up Ilkay. Or with Alejandro and Luke to fetch the rings. Or with Axel and Damion to get the cake. Anything but this.
“I can’t wait to meet Ilkay … he has such a cool name,” River chirps, balancing perfectly on her hands, blonde hair brushing the polished floor. Her voice is upside down but sharp, slicing through my restless haze.
I slump into one of the round chairs, the seat cushion sighing beneath me. The table in front of me is dressed in a pink tablecloth — not just pink, something brighter, warmer. It can very well be flamingo … rose … maybe fuchsia.
To me, it looks like the exact shade of Aria’s nipples, my newest and most sinful favorite color. Of course, that little detail stays buried in my skull where it belongs.
What I CAN say is that the girls did a pretty good job changing this area into an intimate setting for our small secret wedding. A warm glow threads through clusters of round tables, each swathed in soft flowers and candles. Pink everywhere. Subtly mixed with peach. A haze of petals and frills is scattered around in a simple but soft romantic manner, just like Aria wanted.
Lili flicks her eyes from her tablet. “I haven’t met him either.” Her small fingers flick across the screen with the determination of someone running a mission.
“You’re gonna like him,” Leyla pipes up from behind her pink mask, freshly released from the hospital for the occasion. She sits straighter than any nine-year-old has the right to, spine taut, knees pressed together, her pink princess shoes dangling just above the floor. Her voice has this delicate certainty to it. “He’s the nicest brother. And pretty.”
Her words jab me in the ribs, sharp and unexpected. Nicest.
I’m not sure if it’s the envy or the bruised ego that stings more.
“They’re all pretty … except for Luke … he’s as ugly as a beaver’s behind.” River pulls a grotesque face from her upside-down position, eyes crossed, tongue out. Her hair sweeps against the floor like a golden pendulum. She doesn’t even try to disguise her distaste for the youngest Grimm.
Their relationship defies neat definitions. He isn’t her favorite person — not even close. And yet, he matters more than anyone else. The kind of importance you don’t choose, but carry anyway. The truth sits in the space between irritation and admiration, because love refuses to be logical.
I can’t help but spread a smirk … poor Luke is as fucked as my twin.
Leyla wipes pensively over the soft pink tutu-style dress — replacements for the ones that got destroyed.
At least the little angel is taking her sister’s warning not to get messy to heart. Unlike her rebellious companion, who honestly never seems to run out of energy.
Speaking of which — River swivels back to her feet, to observe the redhead — whose hair has grown out about 2 inches by now, making her look like some kind of teacup pixie.
Rocking an identical outfit, pink mask and all, but matching hers with some pink combat boots, River pierces me with those teal eyes.
“I thought you liked THIS ONE,” she emphasizes as she bobs her head in my direction, “the best.” Disregarding me as if I’m not there.
“Yes, he IS my favorite Blackburn,” Leyla giggles, and to me, that is one of the most beautiful sounds in this world. My heart swells, fills, and overflows. Fuck I’m such a wimp these days. But this little girl has a very special spot in my robot heart. Along with her sister.
“But Ilkay is really very nice. So are Logan and Jackson and Axel and Damion and Alejandro. They are all such sweet boys.” My jealousy evaporates. At least I’m at the top of her list.
“I think all my cousins are cool,” Lili says calmly, her tablet now on her lap. “Even Luke.” River halts for a moment and lets out a peeved snort.
Yep, the little guy is done for as soon as puberty strikes.
“Charlotte thinks Alejandro is gorge … ji … ous,” Leyla struggles with the word.
“And my sister said she’s absolutely right … the man is a real hunk.” I snort softly. I’ll have to give that sister of hers a stern talk about looking at other guys — especially gorgeous hunks. I smile coyly — I can think of a few punishment options for her when we’re alone … in bed.
River ponders for a moment and then performs a flawless forward somersault before she replies: “Jackson is my fave.” Yes, he would be. Sort finds sort. And crazy finds crazy.
I watch as she runs around a table and suddenly pulls herself in at the top of the stairs.
“Can’t believe the guy is tying the knot so fast.”
Upon hearing Alejandro’s voice, I realize why the sudden halt — she nearly collided with the foursome ascending the staircase. I sneer … Alejandro clearly has never been in … eh … never crushed on someone before. Just wait till he finds his voodoo girl. The judgmental ass won’t know what hit him.
“Poor fucker fell fucking hard on his face, that’s why,” Axel contributes, not knowing eager ears are listening to every word. At least he knows what he’s talking about. He was there once.
“I got him a book as a wedding present, so he doesn’t run out of positions and get bored,” he snickers while taking the last step. I take it back. Damn asshole.
“Can you show me the book with positions too? Maybe I can use some,” River smashes the firefighter into oblivious humiliation before he can even comprehend his surroundings. He goes red in the face, realizing too late that he launched himself straight into some hot water.
I try not to revel in his mortification too much.
Nah, that’s a lie … I fucking love it. You can practically see the smoke shooting out of his ears as the gears grind in his mind. He opens his mouth, but the young ones are faster.
“Who wrote the book?” Lili asks, furthering Axel’s discomfort. I gasp, but steer clear of this hornet’s nest he landed in. He pants like a fish out of water, but River, again, is more zippier than him.
“It must be Tony Hawk,” River explains. “He knows the best positions.” I swallow, biting down hard on my lip so as not to break out in fits.
“It’s not for skateboarding, it’s …” Luke starts, but gets muffled when his oldest brother quickly slaps a hand over his mouth, holding his head in a grip against his side.
Alejandro snorts — like me, enjoying Axel’s humbling ignominy — while Luke wiggles, trying to get out of his clutches.
“This book is just for married couples,” Alejandro says carefully. “To work through stuff …”
“Yeah,” Axel scorns, not fully recovered from his shock. “Relationship stuff.”
Lili tilts her head. “Like talking about their feelings?”
“Exactly,” Axel says, far too quickly.
“Oh, like therapy,” Leyla says earnestly, naively misunderstanding the concept. I now have to cover my mouth with my hand.
River turns sternly to eye me with those teal eyes. “Do you need therapy?” How did it suddenly turn back to me? I blink. Before I can say anything, she steps closer, face all serious.
“I can ask Jackson if you can borrow Sky.” I blink again.
“Why would he need to borrow your sister?” Alejandro asks. His words are breathy from laughter.
Axel, still holding the cake, bites his teeth, while Luke dons an annoyed face.
River shrugs. “Ask Axel … he knows.”
The man goes white as a ghost on spring break. Both D-Boy and I look at him to explain. But he goes mute.
River sighs as if she’s dealing with a problem child. “You know …” she insists, looking at Axel. “Last night Jackson told you that the best therapy ever is getting lost in Sky.” The room goes numb.
“You were in the kitchen?” Axel asks in a thin voice. She nods. “In the pantry.” Then she quickly holds up her finger in front of Axel’s nose.
“I was not eavesdropping. I was there first. You interrupted my midnight snack.”
Alejandro, however, chortles and holds up his hands in remission, finally letting a pissed Luke go, while Axel looks like he just stepped in some warm, sloppy dogshit. I swear he might barf.
“So,” she turns back to me, “I’m sure Jackson will let Sky help you too.” Now I might barf.
And I’m pretty dead sure he won’t share his little therapist with anyone.
“Eh, I think …. I’ll rather let Aria help me with that,” I say, “But thanks for offering.”
“If you say so,” River casually pulls up her shoulders and does two cartwheels.
“Jackson’s got his grammar wrong again,” Lili ponders suddenly from the counter where she’s sitting with her iPad. “How do you get lost IN someone …”
Silence.
Leyla blinks. “Maybe it’s like when you stare at the clouds and forget stuff?”
“Yeah, you know … Jackson barely made it through school,” I say, hoping it will close this conversation. Just the thought of blowing off into anyone but Aria makes my tummy turn. Least of all … my twin’s roommate. Gross.
Axel goes past to put the cake on the counter. It’s not a huge cake, only two tiers. On top is one of Mel’s little clay sculptures — one of me on my knees holding a humongous peach out to my ginger bride. I smile at the irony of it. But I’ll show Aria tonight just how much I peach her.
And there goes my control again.
Damn dick that suddenly sprouted a mind of its own.
“You’re late!” I say the first thing that comes to my blood-drained mind.
“It’s your sister’s fault,” Alejandro gushes, not yet fully recovered from the sensitive conversation. “At first, she complained about aches all over her body. Then she started crying because the dress might not fit right … and then she cried even more because Kiara picked out those dresses …” His voice dips a bit. Kiara’s death is still a sensitive subject. It still hurts like fucking shit.
“So a touchy moment there combined with raging hormones,” he lours, “After we eventually got past all those issues … which took quite a while by the way … she could not decide if she really wanted to get her before-labor Hollywood done today.” He pulls a grouchy face as if he didn’t want to know that. I’m not sure I want to know that.
“Personally, the thought of being yanked down there gives me chills …” Axel says placidly, clearly not thinking about the present company again.

Mel is Aria’s head bridesmaid, then there’s Ava … and Sky took Kiara’s place. They’re all getting ready together. Haley, too, and even Aunt Betty and Aunt Edna … they’re all upstairs … with a bunch of ladies that do spa treatments, waxing, hair, makeup, and who knows what else.
“Oh, shame,” River rips. “Sky waxes her coochie all the time. She says it only hurts like fock for a second,” she holds up her hands, “Her words, not mine.”
The boys give me a look. The same overly detailed one I have. I mean, who wants to hear about the hair on another girl’s privates — or the lack thereof? Especially if any one single thought about any one part of said girl’s body would most likely land you in serious trouble because your wacko brother is jealous like shit — even if he’ll never admit it.
However, right now, my main concern is the condition of my soon-to-be wife’s intimate parts.
“I hope the sensitivity of Aria’s landing strip won’t affect our honeymoon.” I clearly did not mean to say that out loud. Must be shock, or nerves, or this knotted feeling in my gut.
Not that I’m complaining. She’s waxed before, and it’s sexy as shit.
A stupid smirk covers my face… but dissipates quickly as I feel the impudent stiffness rise without warning. I’m such a wimp. Got no control over my own dick anymore.
“Ricky, are you going to put a baby in Aria’s tummy while you’re on your honeymoon?” Leyla’s eyes are on my flustered face. So are Lili’s.
River stops her acrobatics and also fixes those sea-green eyes on me, eagerly awaiting my response.
Yep, definitely shouldn’t have said that out loud. But what’s done is done.
An image of Aria carrying my baby suddenly rips through my mind. I can see her with a balloon belly, full, tight, feminine breasts, perky, plump nipples, and glowing skin. Fuck that’s probably one of the sexiest images I’ve had of her. At least under the top five.
Believe me, I’ve never in my life found a pregnant woman sexy — they always look clumsy and ungainly. And the mere thought of a human growing in there had me running — until now.
I writhe as some nefarious thoughts further invade my conscious mind — all of them R18, of course.
My semi develops into an intense. Shit.
“Ug, that test-oyster-own is filling his mind again,” River sneers. She seems proud to get it nearly perfect, mastering a broad smile that dimples her cheeks. The same dimples Sky has.
But she’s not wrong. I’m all stuffed up with that raging hormone right now.
I cross my legs to cover it, glad I’m sitting down.
“Eh …” I’m seriously scanning my mind for the right words. But Leyla continues before I find them.
“Charlotte claims that when people get married, they start making babies.” Seriously. What are these kids talking about when they’re alone?
“It’s called sex,” Luke gives his opinion, and I’m starting to hyperventilate here. Lili’s gray eyes stretch. River glares at him as if he just said the dumbest thing ever. Leyla frowns. And I almost swallow my fucking tongue. At least my southern swelling subsides.
Leyla and Lili are more innocent, while River, growing up in a very liberal home with older siblings, seems more streetwise. And Luke … well, he’s been living with Damion all his years …
But sex? Aren’t they a little young to know about the birds and bees? I keep my mouth shut. If Leyla learns something she’s not supposed to, it’s not coming from me. I’m not getting in the dog box on the day of my wedding.
“Oh, I know,” Lili says. “River told me. It’s some stupid ritual grown-ups do when they love each other.”
“Right, and when they get married, the man fertilizes the egg that the woman carries in her tummy, and a baby starts to grow.” Leyla furrows her cute nose. I let out a staggered breath. Thank heavens it’s not in too much detail.
“You’re right,” River agrees, “but you don’t need to get married to do it. Damion and Mel are not married.”
“The baby was an accident.” Luke walks forward with his usual smug, condescending smirk on his face.
River rolls her eyes with theatrical flair, nudging at nothing with the toe of her pink boot.
She doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like her either. Which is funny, considering how permanently they’re stuck together, getting into shit.
I asked Damion … but all he knows is that when Luke fell during their Portland fishing trip and broke his arm, coincidentally, River was there — it’s her hometown after all.
She tried to help him, but he said something that annoyed her. And now she’s here, which annoys him.
Oh, the little problems of the youth.
“How can a baby be an accident?” Leyla appears a little lost.
River pulls up her tiny shoulders and snorts. “Storm always says that I’m an accident because my parents didn’t plan me … I just showed up.” Are all elementary school kids like this?
“And Sky says that it’s because I was a nimble presumptuous little sperm.” Clearly not her own words.
Were we like this?
I think back, and a chill crawls over my skin. We were definitely ‘educated’ above any proper level as kids. Alexander just loved to teach us everything we didn’t need to know.
“That explains a lot,” Luke snorts while he eyeballs River. She gives him a chilly look back.
“What’s sperm?” Lili asks again. She seems to be the most naive in the group. Maybe because she doesn’t have older siblings.
Luke opens his mouth. Regrets it immediately.
“It’s … oww!” Alejandro hits the talkative little man behind the head this time.
“What?” The little menace glares at his older sibling, who glares back. “She asked.”
“You were about to say something stupid,” his brother mutters.
All three girls sigh in perfect, synchronized disappointment. A silent agreement that the male species should not explain things.
“You get it in whales,” Leyla declares proudly. “It’s some white jello they have in their heads. Saw it on Animal Channel.”
Lili gasps. “Ew.”
Leyla nods, satisfied. “Hospitals teach you weird things.”
“Really? So males carry jelly in their heads? Fascinating,” River ponders. “Explains why boys are so much dumber than girls.” She peers at Luke while saying this.
“And if you mix this with the egg in a woman’s tummy, you get a baby,” Leyla says. We’re having a real sex-ed class here.
“How does a man get it in her tummy?” Lili asks, looking straight at me.
“With sex. He puts his … ouch!” Alejandro hits Luke even harder behind his head this time. The little guy glares at his brother — who hosts a silent warning in his blue gaze — while rubbing his skull. Guess he gets the message cause he pouts his mouth but keeps it zipped.
“Jackson explained it to me.” River’s voice dives lower, and I grasp hold of the side of my chair, waiting for the bomb to drop. Knowing Jackson, this can’t be good. It’s as if the room is holding its breath.
“He said sex is just a job,” River explains solemnly. “The man does all the work, earns a glimpse of heaven …”
Beat.
“… and then pays for it immediately.”
No one speaks.
“So basically,” River says, satisfied, “… it’s a lot of effort for very little joy.”
The room stays silent.
“Until you meet the right person,” River continues, lowering her voice, “Then … it’s different.”
Axel stares at the ceiling. “I hate Jackson.” And he’s right … my twin needs to learn some boundaries.