Fuck Buddies |•| lrh

1

M: Hey, my place at 10?

A: Sorry, not tonight.

That's the 3rd time he's blown me off this week. He doesn't even have the curtesy to make up some bullshit excuse like "I have to watch my sister" or "I have to study for my math final, sorry." Just flat out "no." Who does that?

We've had an arrangement for the past year and a half. Straight up, no strings attached, no relationship, not even a friendship; just a good fuck once or twice a week. Then we go back to nodding at eachother in the hallway at school and maybe saying hi in the cafeteria every once in awhile.

A fuck buddy.

Now, Ashton has been acting all secretive and blowing me off whenever I text him. At first, I thought he'd actually blocked me, he'd taken so long to message me back. I don't know what's going on, but honestly he needs to snap out of it (lol @ my arctic monkeys reference sorry ignore me) or I might go insane.

M: Seriously? You're blowing me off again?

My thumb hung over the send button for a few moments before reluctantly sending the text. At this point, it doesn't matter how needy I sound. I don't think I'll survive another year of high school if my fuck buddy bails out on me. Getting together with Ashton is almost the only thing I look forward to during the week.

My phone buzzed beside me and pulled me out of my thoughts.

A: I'm sorry, Mickie, it's just not going to work

I almost wanted to ask if he meant tonight or our entire 'relationship', but I decided against it. There is a fine line between 'I really want this and you're being annoying for not complying' and 'I really want this and I'm very desperate to get it'.

I'm 17, I don't need to beg or throw a tantrum to get what I want. I know that. But growing up with a rich dad and a faker-than-barbie step-mom, I always got what I wanted.

Can I have some cash to go to the mall? Sure, sweetheart. Can I go out to a party tonight? Sure, sweetheart. Can Ashton come over tonight? Sure, sweetheart. The signature response became tiring, of course, but I didn't have to worry about sneaking out or sneaking around because they truly didn't mind.

Mickie Harley always gets what she wants, and I will stop at nothing until that happens.

I pushed back my bratty thoughts and got out of bed to shower. It was Sunday morning and my friend, Landon, was going to be here in an hour to pick me up for our weekly shopping trip. He loved looking around but not buying anything, I hated picking out my own clothes but I had lots of money so I guess we fit well together.

Usually we don't end up shopping a lot in the end, though. Landon happens to be bi, so we like to go around hot guy scouting and making bets on whether one is straight or not. Kind of morbid, I guess, but it passes the time.

I showered and began to put my wavy, brown hair into it's proper part. I did three tight little French braids down the right side of my head, giving my hair a sort of half shave look. Then came the simple eye makeup; dark brown eyeliner on my waterline and a generous coat of mascara. I added a bit of concealer under my eyes to try and cover up the fact that I'd fallen into the infinite hole of stupid YouTube videos last night until I finally called it at 3:30 am.

I then changed into black high waisted shorts and a loose, green V neck T-shirt, looking for my 7$ flip flops from Walmart. Judge me if you want, I'm not spending 50$ on a pair of shoes that hardly even qualify as shoes. Flip flops are weird.

I looked through my closet, grabbing my long strapped, brown canvas purse from the silver door handle and slipping it onto my shoulder before pulling nearly everything out and still not coming across the plain, black shoes.