Dirty Girls

Call Me Slut-er Mia

There are things that could be said about sluts like me, like, “Do you have no shame girl?”

I have a lot of shame, thank you.

“ Was it worth it?”

I dunno, why don’t you see for yourself.

And the questions go on and on and on, its like I have a damn judge in my head and she’s sentencing me to an eternity of hell fire.

“Amy, are you ready?”

I leaned against the wall of the dressing room and looked over Sarah’s dress. We’d been at Macy’s for a grand total of three hours and had yet to find a dress for her 19th Soiree. Personally I believed the first dress to be a winner, a white silky halter that stopped just above her knees, but that was too angelic for her. Oh no, she had to have something damning, something exotic, something as crazy as her and that called for something insanely crazy.

“This is it.” Her hands fluttered down the short dress and her face…you should’ve seen it…it was so light and bright and I couldn’t say all the sarcastic stuff in me that I had wanted to say for the last hour.

I smiled instead, “Finally, we in that thang tonight?”

She took another look at her reflection in the mirror and tucked a long strand of flat-ironed hair behind her right ear and grinned, “Hell yeah.”

“Fucking right,” I pushed away from the wall with a grin of my own.

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Shit happens….that doesn’t mean you should allow it to happen though.

And as soon as I stepped into Sarah’s house, the one that her mom paid to have decorated for her big birthday, the one that was closed off for an entire day, the one that looks like the best club I’ve ever seen, the one with the dark theme, and swirling lights of blue, green, pink and yellow. Yes that house, as soon as I step in dressed in something that’s nun worthy compared to what Sarah has on ( a halter dress with a blue and tropical theme that ends in irregular folds below my knees) I know that something is about to go down. Why?

Because Bobby was there.

Grinning like an idiot, pressed up against the stair case talking to a girl who wished she looked as good as me. Psh, her bright yellow weave and too skinny body, the girl needed some meat on her bones, I pressed my hand against my own generous hip and sized the two of them up. Yeah so what we weren’t together, I still hadn’t given him a definite answer!

But I knew one thing, if he thought he could flirt with a whole slew of girls in front of me then I could do him one better and find a light bright boy to throw in his face. Long blue feather earrings caressed my neck as I moved throughout the crowd to find the birthday girl.

And because my life wasn’t complicated enough I saw a flash of white skin drifting around and grey eyes to match. After two weeks of avoiding the hell out of that house…no out of him…I would finally see him again.

Slut,Slut,Slut,Slut.

My heart pounded against my chest, plum red glossed lips pressed into a thin line and I wished by everything that I looked like someone else. I wished so hard that my brown hair would turn into blonde hair, that my skin would transform into the palest hue known to man and that my face wouldn’t have that damnable lost expression that all of my friends said I had.

But alas, things don’t work that way for me.

Instead I ducked my head as he passed by, hid behind somebody who was in bad need of a shower because he was musty as I don’t know what. I dipped, crimped my knees so that I lost a couple of inches of height, maybe even a feet and then after a moment of walking like that I came up for air.