Love & Orgasms

Realistic One Shot

I thought I'd write a very realistic story for once. This is what might happen in everyday life, combined with memories of my dating past and some friends' experiences.

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Milly's POV.

I meet my friends in town outside the shopping centre. Liz is already stuffing a brown paper Primark bag into her backpack, she can never resist a bargain. We're all wearing our Adidas Superstar's, I notice straight away. I feel a bit silly, matching my friends like this. Our trainers are different colours and released from different years, but still, it's looks like we've planned it.

"Who's joining us?" I ask Aimee.

"I think Caleb and the others are coming," she replies.

I can see the sparkle of excitement in her eye, she's had a crush on Caleb for a few months now. I look down at my phone, I press the lock button to light up the home screen, disappointed to see that I don't have any messages.

Why hasn't he texted me?

My stomach twists. I hate this feeling. I almost don't want to start speaking to someone new because I hate not knowing why they haven't text back, or whether they're really interested or not. Before you know someone properly, you don't know their habits. Aimee, for example, will reply within one minute if you text her, but then won't reply after the second text. Saskia will take at least 1-2 working days to reply. Lola might reply but will always pick up if you call instead. I know my friends, I know how to get in touch with them, but Jake...

"Is Jake coming?" Lola asks, making my ears prick up. She looks across at me and smirks. "He must be, Milly's wearing her new top."

"Fuck off, Lolly," I reply, but I'm grinning.

She knows me too well. I'm wearing a cute baby-blue crop top that I bought in town last weekend. It shows off my stomach because I'm wearing black leggings on my bottom half. I even got a new belly-button piercing to swap out my old one, it's hanging proudly from my piercing now.

"I think he's with Caleb, I'll ask," Aimee responds and starts frantically texting on her phone.

I want to tell her not to ask, that it might look too desperate, but I also want to know. At least Aimee is the one asking, not me.

"Yep, he's coming."

So why hasn't he texted me?

"Let's go into the mall, I want a drink," Saskia says.

We follow her inside, fussing with our hair and trying to make our hips sway in a seductive manner. My mum says I act too old for my age. If she had it her way, I wouldn't wear make-up and I'd still be playing with my toys at home. Fourteen year-olds are still babies in her opinion. It's a fight to get her to spend all day in town with my friends, she makes me keep my location switched on so that she can track me. It's embarrassing, but I'd take it over what Saskia has any day. Her parents don't give a shit about where she is or who she's with, I feel sorry for her.

Saskia buys a frappe with whipped cream in Starbucks. She delivers newspapers to make her own money. Unlike us, she doesn't get an allowance. I'm surprised her parents even knows she exists, really. She stays at our houses a lot.

We all have to stand and wait for her to take a picture of the drink, put a filter on it and upload it to her story. When she's done, she can finally take a sip. She lets me have a bit. I'd have bought one, but I'm still pretty full from the pancakes Mum made this morning and I don't want to look bloated because my stomach is out.