I look down over the banister at the boy who has been patiently waiting on me for over an hour.
“Just one minute..,” I whisper seductively, placing my index finger carefully over my plump, now bright red lips to make a one. I slink back into my room and laugh to myself. It’s just so easy now. So easy to make the boys blush, to date the quarterback. It’s as easy as taking the head cheerleader’s boyfriend.
Those days being nerdy Scarly, are over. Why did the few friends I had call me Scarly anyway? It sounds almost scary. But, they did call me Scarly, and it kinda fit, matching the big glasses and bright pink bands over my braces. I’m not Scarly anymore though.
I am Scarlett. Scarlett Makenna Fox, and when it comes to boys, I am as sly as my last name implies. Before I started 10th grade I had never had a boyfriend, much less been kissed. I was the one girl that everyone hated. I could outsmart them in anything, and those years of being top in my class payed off, because you have to have that right amount of sneaky, that right amount of seductive, the right amount of nice, and the right amount of coldness deep in your soul. Just like a science experiment, you add to much and it blows up in your face, much like my reputation if I was just a little too nice. I pull on my short bandage skirt, a cropped shirt, and my red pumps, and walk down the stairs taking my time. I hold my clutch close to my hip, that clutch contains my lifeline- my cell phone- and it also contains some more lipstick and lip gloss, which I am definitely going to need, if you know what I mean.
I lean over to Jaxon, the boy has now waited an hour and a half on me, and whisper in his ear, “Come on, what are you waiting for, it’s gonna be a long night.” My lips touch his ear just barely, just enough that it makes a shiver go down his spine. So he likes that? I’ll make a note that I can use that later.
Just as my heel touches the pavement, I see him. Oh no. My one flaw. The one person that makes my knees go weak instead of vice versa. I watch him unlock the door, turn off the alarm, and disappear into the shadows. I feel tears start to sting my eyes, but the one thing that keeps them from pouring out is that I remember that it took me too long to perfect just my eyes, much less my whole face.
He is the only guy I ever cried over. Only. I break hearts, but before that, he broke mine.
He was the one guy that never made fun of me. He was utterly adorable, and sweet, and a Christian, just like me.
The guys made fun of me for my 32A, but no push-up bra ever won him over to me. He wasn’t like the rest.
I ruined it.
I abandoned my morals.
I can only think of these things when Jaxon interrupts my thoughts.
“Scarlett, you ready?”
I turn around to face him, tears still threatening to spill out. His eyes are glued to my flat stomach, the area I purposely left bare, to show just enough skin to make him want to see more. But, he never will. No guy will ever pressure me, but they are all hoping that they could knock me up.
Just because I changed doesn’t mean I’m not still a Christian, I still go by that rule. I need to fix my life. I almost want the old one back. But where would that get me? Absolutely no where. So instead, I’m stuck.
I walk past Jaxon and to my car, which throws him off. I slide into the driver’s seat, crank the car, and when he is close enough, I pull him close to me by his shirt. My lips are close enough to kiss him, but instead I speak against his, “The question is, are you ready?”
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xoxo Gracie <3