She clicked into AP Physics, her hair a wild mess, lip gloss smudged, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. Her top was skewed and her shorts were slung low. She handed her pass to the teacher.
Click. Click. Click.
The click of her stilettos punctuated the whispers and stares thrown her way.
Whore. Slut. Easy.
I heard she blew Mr. Gregson for an A on her paper.
With each word her smile grew a bit more fake, but no matter what it remained plastered onto her face.
She plops down next to me, asks if she can copy the homework. I swear, that when I hand her my homework pad and our hands brush, I felt sparks.
When I close my eyes I see her smiling up at me, blue eyes crinkled, pink lips unkissed, hair wind blown.
YOU ARE READING
Cheap Chasity
Teen FictionShe was cheap like the 99¢ Arizona Iced Tea that she was addicted to. She was burning like the joint between her finger tips. She was sweet like the strawberry lipgloss she wears. She was beautiful like the words she writes in her note books. She wa...
