Screw Love

Chapter Two: Truth or Dare

    (Jazzmyne came up with this chapter) 

      Nicole was was sitting the living room watching TV with her mother. It was about six thirty in the evening and it was pouring down outside. Mom insisted that they have some "mother, daughter" time together but Nicole wasn't enthusiastic about it.  

Sometimes, I hate this bitch she thought.  She always wants to act like we're the "perfect family" or the perfect version of the American mother and daughter when we're not. She judges me all the fucking time, telling me I act like I have no common sense, or some other irritating stuff

     I swear, she is just bitter inside because my so-called father left her twelve years ago and she hasn't been able to be happy. I swear I could just take a bat and............

   Nicole shook her thoughts away from her head. Instead of bashing her mother in her thoughts, she kept telling herself to think of something happy and she found herself thinking about Blake. It had been a week since she met him in the gym on the first day and since then, she had been playing along with him and started racking up conversations. From that memory, she thought it wasn't anything wrong with her thinking about him until she began to think about what it would feel like underneath all of the clothes.

 Wonder what his body would feel like if took off his shirt and my hands just somehow touched it. I mean, if you met him, you would know he was big. Muscular, that is, heh heh. Hmm, his lips are kinda full too. If they were under my own and what about the rest of his body if my lips touched it, my tongue playing with his happy trail, leading down to the promise land? OH MY FUCKING GOD, NICOLE STOP IT!!! 

"Nicole. Nicole. Nicole! NICOLE!" 

   By then, Nicole had been snapped out of her daydreaming by her mom's voice calling her name. She thought it was Blake panting her name at first, but was ultimately disappointed when she found out it was her mother. Wow, thanks, mom. 

"What mom?" she responded, irritated. 

"Are you even watching this movie? Edward just took off his shirt," she gushed, as if she was teenager. But for some reason, it seemed rather forced than genuine.

                                                                                                                           .          Honestly, I don't care about Jacob or Edward or any of that Twilight shit. Seriously? I hate Twilight! A lot of girls loved the movies for some reason, but I don't know why. All I care about is Blake. Wait, WHAT???!!! Where did that come from? I just met him.

  She felt a little embarrassed, even blushing for a bit. It was very unlikely for her to think about a boy she had just met. She never fantasized about anyone unless it was a celebrity. If she was a guy, she thought, it would be very normal. But for a young lady, like herself, she didn't consider so much of it as weird but a little unusual. At least, that's what she thought. Good girls could never fantasize about certain experiences or they'd be considered "promiscuous" or "whores" or what today's generation calls "thirsty" and even the word "THOT". 

  Pretending as if she was tired, Nicole stood up.

"I'm going in my room for a minute," she announced.

"Really? It's six thirty-five," her mother said, bewildered.

"I'm not going to bed, I have to do homework."

"Oh, ok, honey, I'll call you down when dinner is done."

  She went upstairs and laid down, staring at the ceiling. She took off her glasses (on the first day she wore contacts) and rubbed them. She played music on her phone for a bit, humming the song All About That Bass. She wasn't a chunky girl, in fact, quite curvy but she loved the song for what it was. After that, she decided to actually do homework from Calculus. She was good at all aspects of math but she didn't really love it. As a student in school, all throughout her life, she was always considered the superior in her classes. She always understood the material, paid attention and mostly got straight A's on her report cards. It was no problem for her whatsoever.