Anastasiya Greyson is back in her stuck up hometown for her senior year after the death of her mom. she already left once and she can't afford to get close to people just for her leave again. but would a friendship with her childhood love be worth t...
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Anastasiya Greyson Tuesday, September 28th
After an afternoon filled with hearing my stepmonster talk my ear off and an awkward 'family' dinner where my father left halfway through for a business call my night was very boring after August had left. But I'm very excited to watch his car pull up and see a seven-foot monster in a leather skirt and heels.
I really did get the easy part of this swap. I'm practically drowning in this sweatsuit combo, and my hair is matted to my forehead in a Justin Beiber wave but at least I'm not wearing heels for eight hours.
The horn honks outside my house as I grab two fresh cinnamon buns off of the counter, my messenger bag and I'm out the door, knocking on the driver's side of the door to take his Cinnamon bun. He rolls down the window, knocking his oversized sunglasses down his nose.
"Why thank you, sir." He greets, unlocking the passenger side door for me to get in.
"Happy to be of service, ma'am." Tipping my hat at him, dropping my messenger bag on the floor, and biting into my cinnamon roll with a slight moan, "you're right these things are sex for the mouth."
His bottom lip is between his teeth as his eyes slowly scan my outfit before acknowledging what I say with an excited head nod and a large bite into his cinnamon bun.
Even if I had already seen this whole look last night, seeing it in broad daylight and knowing he's gonna clamber down the hallway like freaking sasquatch is just making me burst out in hysterical laughter.
"What's so funny?" His face has morphed into a pout and as he sticks his bottom lip out further to deepen the pout all I can think of is the fact that his look needs some lipstick.
"Your look needs some lipstick." I state, bending over the seat towards the back to reach into the side pocket of my bag and pull out the red lipstick I keep in my bag. "Here do you wanna put it on or should I?"
"Wha- why do I need lipstick? I think the outfit itself is plenty extravagant and last night you said you wouldn't make me wear makeup." Furiously shaking his head no, and refusing to stay still like a three-year-old.
