[18+ ONGOING]
Josephine Devereaux has spent her entire life wishing she liked change & spontaneity. But when she gets accepted into Southern Chicago U's forensics program, change suddenly isn't so scary. Fast forward two years- she's a junior at the...
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"Are you guys ready yet? I wanna drink!"
I roll my eyes as I finish up my last coat of mascara. I stand up straight in front of the mirror, double checking my outfit.
A pair of dark blue flare jeans sit nicely on my bottom half, hugging my legs in all the right places without making me feel suffocated. I usually opted for leggings or sweats because jeans always felt so constricting to me, but I decided to wear the new pair that I hadn't broken in yet, knowing it would have to leave the depths of my closet at some point. My top half is covered by a tight-fit, cropped black t-shirt. It hugged my shoulders and boobs perfectly, accentuating the shape of my body without making me feel so self-conscious.
I always preferred clothes like this. While I enjoyed wearing super sexy clothes sometimes and super casual clothes other times, this middle ground was easily my favorite. I liked my body and I didn't really have any shame when it came to showing it. I didn't mind showing it off at all, frankly. I worked hard for the body I had and once I came to terms with the fact that it's the body I'm going to spend the rest of my life in, I began to love the imperfections that came with it. I began to be thankful for it and started to see it as a vessel rather than a doll that I was so desperate to mold into an unattainable shape. I never really looked back since then. I had curves in the right places and was toned everywhere else due to how often I ran, and I liked wearing clothes with coverage that fit snugly. I felt most sexy when wearing sexy clothes that didn't show too much skin and rather just accentuated my figure.
I tied my hair up into a ponytail, knowing that if I left it down, it would get tied up at some point in the night because of how much it irritates me. Giving myself one more quick look, I left my room to join the girls in the main area.
Cal is already clutching a bottle of Vodka when I enter the main area, sitting on one of the stools, kicking her feet back and forth like a five year old. To be fair, she's about 5'1, so it makes sense that her feet can't reach the ground. Her face blossoms into a massive smile upon my appearance and she hops off the stool in glee, running over to men and embracing me in a hug that's alarmingly strong for a girl of her caliber.
I smile as she rocks in my arms.
"Guess what?!" She squeals.
"What?"
"Guess who got the internship at the Chicago Art Institute?"
I beam at the news, lifting her small frame in the air as we squeal like little girls. Cal had been talking about the internship as if it was the greatest honor in the world. And while she has a tendency to be dramatic at times, art was one of the things that she took pretty seriously.
A shriek comes from one of the bedroom in the hallway and I hear the patter of Serena's run as she continues screaming in delight. I can't help but laugh heartily as I watch Serena jump into Cal's arms, the two of them making indecipherable noises of excitement.
