Talk like a sailor, dress like a doll, I thought as I toyed nervously with the small, silver locket around my neck, sitting back and looking at myself in my vanity mirror. I looked pretty damn good considering I didn't usually dress up. And I felt pretty fuckin' confident seeing as I've never snuck out of the house before or went to parties as big and wild as the Walker brothers' famous bashes.
"Goodnight, Carter," Dad called from outside my bedroom door, startling me out of my thoughts.
"Shit," I swore, rising from my chair and hustling quietly to my door, inconspicuously locking it so he couldn't walk in and see me all dressed up. Cringing, I said, "Night, Dad!" hating as his title rolled off my tongue sounding all chirpy and happy.
"Love you," he hollered fakely, his voice drifting away as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom.
Love you, too, asshole, I thought with a sigh as I glanced at my clock. 8:30. Corbin should be here soon...
Biting my bottom lip impatiently, I sat on my bed in my skillyfully tattered, faded skinny jeans, cut Misfits shirt that had the collar chopped off to reveal my collarbone tattoos that said Every Rose Has It's Thorn and sheered at the bottom to showcase the belt of stars tattooed from hip-to-hip, my bellybutton piercings, and my hip piercings. I wore a pair of red stiletto pumps that clicked as I walked, reminding me of the day Momma had tried to teach me how to dance in heels. I smirked sadly at the memory.
To most of my friends I looked like a badass with my tattoos and piercings, my fiery attitude, and sailor mouth, but I was just a bunch of untouched puzzle pieces no one's seemed to put together because they're all too busy staring at the picture of the end result printed on the jig-saw puzzle's box.
Inside I was a ship that had wrecked, the captain held face-down by a pirate nastily named Disaster, while all the sailors on board waited for people to respond to their SOS. Everyone slowly loosing hope.
My big blue eyes skipped to the neatly framed picture of a stranger's familiar face smiling widely back at me as if telling me be strong, Mermaid, talk like a sailor and dress like a fuckin' doll.
That familiar stranger's face was my mom and as I stared at it I could practically hear her saying my nickname "Mermaid", because of my big blue eyes. She'd taught me that saying. "Talk like a sailor, dress like a doll".
Momma always told me I had quite the mouth on me when I was young, said the first words out of my throat were: "Fuck you". I wouldn't be surprised, though, when you hear little phrases like that for the first eighteen months of your life they kinda stick to your tongue and shoot out whenever you open your mouth, kinda like spit, but she always taught me to dress like a doll, to feel beautiful even when the words coming from my plump lips were as nasty as pond scum.
Dad on the other hand, he never approved of the way Momma raised me, thought that a woman shouldn't utter those kinds of words, dress the way we did, act the way we acted. He didn't like the fact that Momma kept liquor in her cabinets, had a new boyfriend practically every month, took pills because of her anxiety and depression, and taught her daughter how to be "un-lady-like". Dad had hated Momma, it was pretty obvious, even to a six year old, and looked for any and every way to bring her down. The one day she slipped up and got drunk with her boyfriend and forgot me at school, forcing me to call Dad to come pick me up, was the day Dad had finally reached his breaking point.
He got my Mom on child neglect when I was eleven, gained full custody of me a year later when Momma overdosed in her kitchen, and removed my mother completely from my life a few months later.
Mom died in a car accident a week after she heard Dad was moving me out to California. I never got to say bye to her. And it was all his fault.
They all said it was an accident; I knew better than to believe a bunch of fucks who just wanted to ruin my life, but I never argued with anyone from Dad's side of the family, they were all stuborn with some kind of God complex...
Something smack at the glass of my window, scaring the ever living shit outta me and making me squeal. It came again and I moved towards my window as another pebble was chucked at the house, missing its mark.
Throwing open my window, I hissed, "Corbin, your aim sucks!"
A quiet laugh came from the shadows below my window before I heard his smooth voice, " 'Ey Sleeping Beauty, let your hair down so the Beast can get you in his fricken pumpkin and to the ball."
"You're an idiot, Corb," I said as I climbed onto my windowsill, sitting myself down on the edge. "Are you going to catch me if I fall?" I called quietly, nervously.
"Isn't that what best friends are for?" he replied as I glanced down at the twenty foot drop from my window on the second floor to the garden below. "Just shimmy down that drain pipe over there and pretend you're on that fire pole I pushed you down in third grade," he called quietly.
"Was that supposed to be helpful?" I snapped a I took off my heels and tossed them into the shadows, hoping one of my heels hit him in the head on the way down. I take that back, he was obviously dropped on his head multiple ties when he was baby, don't want to kill the last part of his brain he has left.
"I'm coming down," I squeaked, butterflies batting at the insides of my stomach as I reached over for the drain pipe that ran down the side of my house, it had been within arms length when Corbin and I had come up with this plan this morning...where was it now...?
My fingers came into contact with cool metal and, gulping down my fear, I locked my arm around the pipe, swinging off my window and sliding, one-armed, down the drain at an alarming speed. It took all I had not to scream as my sweaty fingers lost their grip on the pipe and I fell the last ten feet, a shriek of adrenaline and fear starting to rip from my windpipe right as I fell into strong arms.
Apparently their legs hadn't been strong, because they collapsed and Corbin and I landed in a heap in a bush.
"Dumbass," I growled.
Corbin just rolled his eyes at me and grinned as he stood us both up, pulling a twig from his pants and a leaf from my hair saying, "Now wasn't that as much fun as the time in third grade?"
"You better find where you parked your pumpkin before I turn into the beast," I said, stalking off towards the street, heels in hand.
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Heyyy <3 How'd you like the first chapter? Mind telling me what's on your mind? Do you like Carter so far? How 'bout Corbin? If you liked, VOTE! Ahaha, if you loved it, read on(; Thankss ;-*
~~Claire xoxo
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Sailor-Mouthed GIrls Shouldn't Fall For Bad Boys
Teen FictionCarter, better known as Wade, never put up with the BS most people gave her, with her tattoos, piercings, I-don't-give-a-fuck mentality, and sharp tongue she got the reputation as "badass" pretty easily, but she never came close to being as badass a...