Seandra Lea Jones Is A Tomboy

10. Totally Fuckable

Myra and I look nothing alike. Or more like, her face kinda looks like Ming Lee Simmons while mine favors Aoki. We've got the same build, well we used to before her BBL, and I'm taller even though she's older. I wanna say I love my sister, but I honestly don't know her and it's not like she cares to know me. I wanted different for me and my little brother, especially since he kind of looks like me, in my humble opinion.

He was so tiny, like a literal nugget. His skin was a toasty caramel, his eyes big and bright and brown, his hair was straight as a pin and his arms! Ugh, don't get me started on the fat rolls he was rocking, I honestly wanted to eat him up.

As expected, mom had nannies that watched him around the clock. It also meant that when I hung with him, I didn't have to see my sister or mother. That is until she sent Sylvia to come get me and send me to the tea room.

I sighed heavily, shaking Leo's fist, which was clamped around my finger, one last time before extracting myself.

I knew this moment was coming, I was still shitting myself though. I showed up to the house in leggings and a hoodie, Myra wondered if I was trying to hide a pregnancy. For dinner I changed into a nice top and some jeans, mom asked if I'd gotten dressed in the dark. Yesterday I went with my fav camo pants and baggy tee, mom simply laughed. Today I chose all black, black ripped jeans and a black long sleeve tee, I haven't seen her yet but I knew she would say something.

"All black? Trying to hide the weight gain?" Were the literal first words out of my mother's mouth.

My mother, who at forty-seven honestly looked twenty-nine, was seated by the window in a floral, ruched corset dress. Her hair was flat ironed to perfection and her makeup a soft glam, she looked amazing. I went to join her around the coffee table, wanting so badly to take my hair out and redo my bun. The very bun she was giving a stank look too, so instead, I stood my ground and kept it.

"What do you want?" I asked instead of responding.

Her lip twitched, "Pass me the sweetener." She said, gesturing to the sugar bowl. I leaned forward and grabbed it, passing the bowl to her. That's when I noticed her fresh set of nails, meanwhile I was still rocking chipped paint from last month.

I folded my hands in my lap and sat back in the seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"You aren't being taken out of the will." She said after plunking two cubes into her tea and stirring. She looked over at me, "Paul won't allow it."

Paul, her ever evasive baby daddy, was fast becoming my favorite person. "Thanks."

Mom rolled her eyes, "I still think you need to try and pull your weight in this family."

"I have a great job, mom," I deadpanned, hating how she always forgets I've got two degrees!

The smile of pity she gave me actually pissed me off, "But you've got my face, kind of, you don't need to work."

"Mo-"

She held up her hand, "But whatever, I give up. If you want to slave your life away, be my guest. Just please, for your dear young and beautiful mom, marry someone above your league." She said like she was telling me to bundle up in the winter and look both ways before crossing the street.

I kissed my teeth, my chipped nails digging into the palms of my hand. "Great advice."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm just saying! It'll do you some good."

"Don't worry mom, I've got it covered."

She gestured to my chest, "I know! You've always got the girls covered, no wonder you don't have a man. Maybe if you showed off your double d's one of those sexy friends," She used air quotes, "Would agree to pity date you. That would raise your score and get some other guys interested."