Prologue:
Dear Mason,
What's love? Love is laughter. Love is patience. Love is knowing one day, ill be with you again.
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Introduction:
Did you ever have one of those days, where you just wake up and feel, perfect? Ha! Neither have I. Today, I did feel pretty. It was harder to notice the giant black head on my chin. And hey, that was good enough for me.
I was an average girl. I mean, by society's view. I had the kin of hair that was half curly on the bottom and straight and frizzy on top. Which, I had learned could be fixed by showering at night and sleeping with a braid in my hair. I wasn't a size 0. Not near. But I want fat. I had wide hips and extreme curves. My mother was all Italian, and my father 50% Italian. So, I had brown/black hair, and beautiful eyes. That Was my favorite quality.
I was tall for my age ( 18 in two days!) and had loooonnnggg legs. I was average, in my own way. I had a pretty face, I mean, I just wasn't, perfect. My family wasn't exactly perfect either.
"Josephine! Get your ASS down here or there is no WAY your going out tonight." That was typically my mother, the hard ass. I wanted a car for my seventeenth birthday? Well I could be sure as hell I would be driving the twins to daycare every morning. So, basically that was mom. My dad divorced my mom when I was thirteen, she remarried three years ago when she fell in love and had the twins. I don't really think it was in that order though.
"I'm up! Jesus ma!" My step father lowered down the paper throwing me the no-using-gods-name-in-vain look. He was hardcore religious, I didn't believe in god. But, I still respected him. My mother kissed him on the cheek, her black hair in a neat bun. She coated her face in makeup. Like always. She had always tried to edge me into wearing it, but I never wanted to. She wore a brown pencil skirt and women's suit top. She was a lawyer, a good one too. She was also on of the most perfect looking woman you'd ever see.
My step father, Tom, was a sales man, top notch and also took in a decent salary. Yeah Ma...love. He had a good body, and looked pretty young for fifty. He ruffled the twins and his sons hair and grabbed his brief case. "Drive safe Josephine. Those are my baby's. " he walked out glaring, he seemed to hold a bad grudge against me. Probably because I wasn't part of his new family.
Royce and Rachel sat in their high chairs. Both dressed in blue shirts, green and blue plaid shorts for Royce, and purple and blue skirt for Rachel. They were adorable, if I do say so myself, taking in my mothers Italian eyes, and Toms bleach blonde hair. I'd like to say they adored me, but at four they were pretty bi polar. I packed up their lunches, putting them in their bags for pre school. That's when Dominic came down stairs.
"Hey, look at that, Josephine looks like a whore today, again!"
"Shut up dumb ass." Dominic was almost sixteen, and he pretty much hated me. He told my parents it's cause I was a bitch, and he didn't like me because we were only step siblings. But, it was really because his friends all thought I was the hottest thing to walk the earth, and I think I mixed up his little boy hormones when I walked around the house in shorts and low cut shorts.
I looked down to take in what I was wearing. A pair of white American eagle jeans, that, made my ass look phenomenal, a very low cut mint tank top, and light wash jean jacket. Paired with a few necklaces, my brown wedges and my hair pin straight. I didn't look like a whore, I just looked hot.
