You Again

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

You know, when you wake up in a boy’s bed, you don’t really expect the sheets to be covered in racecars.  You would think that they would be a solid color, like black or red.  Pink if he was gay and got drunk at a party and totally forgot that he liked men.  Definitely not racecars.

But when you’re waking up in your cute little five year old brother’s bed, that’s exactly what would happen.

How I got to be in my baby brother’s bed was a little fuzzy but I vaguely remembered reading him a story and him falling asleep in my lap.  I guess I was so tired that I fell asleep in here with him.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the top of a little dark head resting on my chest and I knew Jake was still asleep.  The boy could sleep through anything so I lifted him off of me and stood up.  My muscles were stiff and I had to stretch when I got up out of his bed. 

After pulling the covers back over Jake and kissing his forehead, I went back to my bedroom and headed for my bathroom.  The warm water relaxed my muscles even more.

Since it was the first day back from Christmas break, I thought I would dress to kill.  Thank God, my mom knew fashion just as well as I did.  Even if I didn’t go with her on the shopping spree she and my dad had given me as my Christmas present, she still would have gotten great stuff. 

Since it was barely the beginning of January and so cold that even Frosty the Snowman was complaining, I had to dress in layers just so I didn’t freeze my ass off going from my car to the doors of the school.  But that didn’t mean layers couldn’t be taken off. 

So underneath my coat I was wearing a tight red V neck t-shirt that was a little too low cut with skinny jeans and knee-high black suede high-heeled boots.  I knew the kind of attention I would be getting for my outfit but I was totally used to it now. 

Almost all of the girls called me ‘slut’, ‘whore’, and every other name in the book.  It’s not like I’d ever heard girls call me that before.  Just because they couldn’t keep hold on their boyfriend before they came to me didn’t mean they could call me that!

And don’t you have to have sex to technically be a ‘slut’ or ‘whore’?  Well, then I must be the only virgin slut and whore around.  I wasn’t going to be opening my legs for any guy anytime soon. 

My version of a good time with guys doesn’t mean sex at all.  I just love playing with their hearts…since the only time I ever let myself love someone that’s exactly what happened to me.  I didn’t believe in love anymore, unless you were talking about my parents.  They had the cliché tragic love story with a happy ending. 

This is how it went:  boy and girl grow up together.  Girl looses parent and stops talking to boy.  Girl goes away for years and comes back still hating boy.  Boy and girl make up and start dating.  Something tragic happens to girl and boy is devastated, thinking that she won’t make it.  Girl lives, they get married, have four kids, and they live happily ever after.

Ugh, doesn’t that just make you want to puke?  I know it makes me want to. 

Yes, there might be a few couples out there who are really in love but this girl right here didn’t believe that it was for her.  They didn’t call me ‘little miss player’ for nothing.

It didn’t take me all that long to get ready for school after I took a shower.  Thank God, I didn’t have to do anything with my hair or it would have taken me forever.  I had inherited my blond curls from my mom while my brothers got my dad’s dark locks.  My brother Greer and I got our mom’s blue eyes out of it also.  So many people said I looked like my mother.  And I always took that as a compliment because, even for a woman in her early forties, she was still hot.  It was just really weird when I had guys telling me that at school.