I'd been taking dance lessons since I was five along with gymnastics, so naturally when that perverted boy texted me after I hurriedly left his house saying he wanted a lap dance on his birthday I had no worries. He knew that, of course, just like he knew almost everything about me.
I wasn't sure if I liked that though because then how would I ever surprise him?
I was upset at first about giving him a lap dance or rather I was upset that he beat me. I had a whole plan on what I was going to make him do for me and everything but then he kissed me. Like really kissed me and I could barely even talk let alone think about getting the upper-hand. And then he was touching me there and I knew that I had lost.
Some part of me, the determined and sore loser part of me, wanted a rematch because I was convinced he cheated and my neck still throbbed a little from his bruising hickey. But another part of me was afraid of what another round of that game would do. We were so close to going all the way last time and I just knew that once we went down that road there would be no turning back.
I was already thinking about kissing him again, like all the time, and it was only two days ago.
I spent all day yesterday coming up with a dance to one of my favorite freaky songs at my dance studio. I didn't even know why I put so much thought into making a real dance instead of just winging it and doing stuff that matches the beat. I just did because I knew it would make him happy and a part of me really wanted him to be happy.
Plus he wanted me to give it to him at his party, with everyone watching and I couldn't exactly dry hump him in front of at least two hundred people. Though the dance was really sexual all on its own and would leave an effect on a couple people. This was also my chance to show all his hoes who came first and why I would always be first.
They could try to play themselves and think just because we weren't together and that he wasn't mine all they wanted but at the end of the day, Jaelynn Ammarie Pierce was the baddest and she would always be.
"I know that look," Ranae says from her spot perched on my bed. She was leaning back on her hands, watching me with a skeptical and amused gaze. I raised an eyebrow and smile innocently at her through the reflection of the full-length mirror on the back of my door.
"What look?"
"The 'I'm about to destroy all these dumb bitches because I slay' look," she says. I laugh at her so hard my stomach was cramping after only ten seconds.
Ranae was a few inches taller then me with rich dark skin, she was slim but had curves that really filled out the dress she was wearing right now. She was my dad's niece but she was also my best friend. When we were little we hated each other with a passion because I was a spoiled little princess who never had to share with her brothers and therefore didn't like to share. But whenever Ranae would come over, which was pretty much every day back then, we would argue about her touching my stuff and about a bunch of other dumb shit 4-year-olds argued about.
We got over it when we were about five and she pushed Paris down two steps after he called her bald head and since I absolutely hated my annoying little brother back then, and still do a little, she became my new best friend and just like that I was crying whenever she had to leave.
I was glad to have Ranae, she kept me humble and was probably the only reason I haven't been expelled from every school we've gone to for fighting all the fake bitches who lived in Wilmington. Plus she knew me better then I knew myself sometimes and vice versa.
My laughter calms down and I turn fully towards her. "Bitch shut up I'm just looking at this fat ass."
The dark-skinned beauty chuckled and went back to braiding her hair. "Every time you look at yourself you get this look in your eyes that practically screams im better than every other girl." See what I mean? Ranae wasn't afraid to be blunt with me and tell me how it was and I could never get mad at her when she was because she was being honest most of the times.
