Becoming His by Mariah Dietz

ridiculous.” I laugh at the sight of my sister in her neon green bikini bottom with toilet paper rolls bulging from her arms.
    “We have to stay down so no one can see us,” Kendall whispers conspiratorially. I try to keep a straight face, but all I want to do right now is laugh. Everything seems funny, from the fact that we’re about to TP a house to Kendall wearing my bikini top because she thought it would make her boobs look bigger—it doesn’t, but by the time we finished swapping tops she was ready to go.
    “You dropped one!” I stop in front of the fallen roll.
    “Leave it!”
    “I can’t. We need  all  of them!” I slowly bend to retrieve it and drop three more in the process.
    Kendall’s giggles fill the air. “Stop, stop.”
    I laugh as I work to pick up the four rolls of toilet paper. As I get the last one in my arms, it squeezes too tightly against one another and two more fall out of my arms. My laugh follows them rolling down the street.
    “Oh my god, I think I just peed!” Kendall cries between squeals of laughter as she presses her forehead to my shoulder.
    We decide to abandon the two rolls, and Kendall starts humming the  Batman  theme as she straightens and bolts down the middle of the road, surprisingly fast for how drunk she is and being in a pair of flip flops I know from experience are stiff and uncomfortable to walk, much less run in.
    I chase after her feeling but not really caring about the sharpness of the road against my bare, pool-pruned feet.
    We duck behind a large azalea bush that lines Mr. Tucker’s walkway, which is only three houses down from Marshall’s, as a pair of headlights turn toward us.
    “Shhh!” I whisper as Kendall leans heavily against me, still giggling. The small voice in the back of my head instructs me to look back and ensure it isn’t our parents. They’re supposed to be gone overnight, but catching us would definitely invoke a “Harper Jo.”
    I stand to watch where the vehicle’s going, and Kendall levels me as she attempts to run forward. The rolls of toilet paper fall from our grasps as our arms fly out to catch ourselves. We lie on the cool grass, bursting into shrieks of laughter.
    After a few minutes we slowly stand up. A stitch burns in my side from giggling as I dust dried grass off my exposed skin and begin picking up the fallen rolls.
    When we get to Marshall’s we dump our collection under the large weeping willow that sits on the corner of his property and each grab a roll. We race around, throwing them to drape trails of toilet paper as quickly as possible.
    “What are you doing?” The words are hissed from behind us making me jump and Kendall scream.
    My head whips around, terrified that we haven’t been paying enough attention to the house and that Marshall’s caught us, or worse—our dad.
    “You scared the shit out of me!” Kendall screeches, reaching out to slap Jameson’s chest as I take a deep breath of relief.
    “What are you guys doing?” he repeats.
    “He was being a creeper!” Kendall wails.
    “Shhh!” Jameson and I both hiss.
    “What was he doing?” This time I’m the one that squeals as I hurl my roll behind me toward the voice I recognize as soon as the toilet paper hits his chest.
    Max stands behind me, looking satisfied at my reaction. I glare at him, feeling my heart thrumming in my neck and my hands shaking from nerves.
    “Where are your clothes?” Jameson asks, ignoring my reaction and Max’s question.
    I look down at my pink bikini bottoms and neon green top that belongs with Kendall’s bottoms and over to Kendall. She’s looking down at her own bathing suit.
    “We’re wearing clothes.” One hand goes to her hip.
    “According to a nudist colony maybe,” Jameson retorts.
    Kendall ignores him and picks up the roll she’d dropped and tosses it toward the front flower bed, leaving a trail of white. A new eruption of giggles pierces the air as she trips, her hands finding my arm for