Garbage? Garbage.

Age 15

"What's this?"

"What's what?"

Ian quickly moves away from under my arm, and sits far away from me on the couch.

I furrow my eyebrows, as I shift towards her again.

She shifts again, until she reaches the end of the couch, closer to the armrest.

I move towards her again, this time trapping her with my body.

I keep my hand on her back again, and feel the protruding part. What is it?

"What's this?" I ask her again, to see, heat rise to her cheeks as she tries to shift again, further into the couch.

"Um, nothing.." She appears really red and I can't help but be even more curious.

I feel her back around, moving my hand up and down slowly. Is it a hook?

And then it finally hits me.

"You're wearing a bra?" If her cheeks were red before, then they had now turned into the color of fire. It looked like she just came out of the oven.

I frown. She doesn't need a bra.

"You don't need a bra." The frown on my face deepens. I take a sneaky look at her chest, and confirm my statement.

"What do you mean I don't need a bra?!" She exclaims frantically, and tries to get up, when I use my leg to keep her in place.

We are in the far end of the couch, and I have my leg on top of hers. What a position. I smirk to myself.

"You don't have to wear it. Its uncomfortable." I end my sentence with a frown again.

"Hahaha. Yeah, my friends say I'll get used to it. How do you know if its uncomfortable or not?" She still has a blush to her cheeks, and I cannot stop the smile from making its way onto my face.

"I don't know, you kept fidgeting and you seemed uncomfortable." I shrug my shoulders, looking at her face. I knew what was coming. Oh no.

"Aw, you're so cute!" She pinches my cheeks and I shove her face away from me.

"I am not fucking cute." I groan as I hear her laugh.

She thinks I'm cute? Wait a minute, Garbage.

I reach my hand towards her bra clasp, and pull it hard, so that it stretches and then smack it back onto her back.