Diaries of a Teenage Hooker

03

At this point, I was very nearly glad for my stalkers. I'd gone from being completely celibate to this. The girl I slept with the previous night kept sending me videos of her touching herself, telling me that she couldn't stop thinking about me.

              I opened another video she'd sent me and immediately got assaulted by a trickle of desire down my thighs. The petite young thing was on her bed, her legs spread wide open to reveal a freshly shaved and very pink mound. Her fingers eased into it slowly and began rotating, as her moans echoed loudly.

              Just as I was getting excited and my fingers were reaching for the throbbing nub between my legs, the video ended abruptly. The nerve of that tease. I would show her eventually.

              I turned my phone off, willing my arousal to subside. At the time, I was anticipating my family's visit. Georgeson High allowed our families to visit twice a term, and even though my relationship with my family was nothing to write home about, I was anxious to see them for three reasons.

              One, I'd run out of money, two, everyone's family was visiting, and I felt left out as I saw students rush to the parking lot as soon as the public service announcement thing informed them that their parents were in, and lastly, my brother (not biological) was tech savvy. Hopefully, with his help, I could find my stalkers.

              So that I could thank them.       

              I was a bit of a loner. I'd never set out to making friends, and people never gravitated to me. I was what you'd consider glamorously pretty, with the all-American blonde hair and blue eyes niche, but in a boarding school filled with rich children who were also perfect, being pretty didn't count for much. It was all about having famous parents, which is what Kendrick Ross and the popular kids had.

              I put on the cleanest clothes I could find. I was a bit of a sloth, so I didn't do laundry much. Luckily, I had a hoodie and some shorts.

              After spraying a bit of perfume on my wrists, I stepped out of my room and went towards the parking lot. There was a hall where the visitors could sit and chat with their wards, but most people chose to talk in their cars instead because it gave them freedom and privacy.

              My parents weren't there, as expected. Feeling sorry for myself, I watched the other students as they hugged their parents and chattered excitedly with their siblings, a sinking feeling hollowing out my chest.

              I turned away from the families and bit down hard on my tongue to stop an anguished scream. My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, so immediately it began vibrating as a call came through, I felt it and answered.

              I was grateful for the distraction because nothing could've stopped me from bursting into tears in front of all these kids and their parents.

              "Hello?"

              It was my mother, and even though she hadn't said anything yet, I knew she was going to disappoint me by saying they wouldn't be able to make it. It wouldn't come as a surprise. My parents rarely ever didn't disappoint me. "Hi Lea. Everything's good, I hope?"

              "Peachy."

              "Don't use that tone with me, miss girl," the woman said sternly. She let out a breath, a hearty sigh that sounded more exasperated than anything. "We can't make it again, darling. There's a charity ball that I must attend. Starving kids in Africa, you know?"

              "Yeah, I know."

              As if there weren't several wealthy Africans to worry about that. The funds from that charity would be diverted into our accounts anyway. The pretentiousness of it all made me sick.