IT HURTS KNOWING THAT WITH EACH FUCK I LOSE HIS TRUST, AND WITH EACH KISS I MISS MY SHOT TO HIS HEART, BUT I AM WHO I AM AND FUCKING IS HOW I FEEL. –CHASITY
Today I was gong to ask her for real to stop seeing other guys. I had seen her this morning, her hair down and curing slightly. Her eyes were lined with thick black eyeliner, and her lashes were over mascara-ed. Her lips were painted pale pink with drugstore lip gloss, and she wore a crop top that read 'cheap mondays'. Her shorts were low slung, revealing s trim of lace and a belly button ring on a flat stomach. Her legs looked miles long and her heels were black with white bows. She looked gorgeous. And not her body or her face under all that make up. I meant she was gorgeous, underneath that, with wet hair and no makeup and sweatpants.
My thoughts kept shifting to how our bodies fit together perfectly and how her lips felt on me. It was growing harder and harder to focus on my English teacher, droning on about how in Lord of the Flies, Jack represented the id, Ralph the ego and Piggy the superego. My mind was consumed with strawberry gloss stains, trashed with empty Arizona cans and ravaged by a blond haired vixen.
I walked past her locker and she was sat on the floor, tears running down her face, the black tracking down her cheeks. She looked empty. She was just staring at the wall.
Scrawled on her locker was CHASITY'S CHEAP EVERYDAY.
YOU ARE READING
Cheap Chasity
Novela JuvenilShe 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...
