"But, Mom, Tillie can to the damn party all by himself!" I whined, while trying to see if I could manage SOME SORT of style to make me look good.
"No, he's freaking 7 years old for peace sake. Please, Harm, do it for me!" She whined.
I rolled my eyes, "Mom, my hair looks bad though." I resorted to my next excuse.
"Brush it. Or do that straight iron crap you young girls do." She spoke so...annoyed.
I sighed, she always knew what I could exactly do.
I took out my straight iron, plugged it in and I waited for it to heat up.
I took a quick shower and I washed my hair with a very fruity and nice smelling hair shampoo.
I dried my skin and I walked back into my room. I straightened my hair and unplugged it, searching in my closet for an outfit.
"Harmony, hurry it up!" My mom warned, and I could hear Tillie and his friend, Johnny plotting my doom at the little birthday gets together.
I ruffled with my jeans very tight and mini skirt, and I straightened out my black spaghetti strapped tank top and I rolled up the sleeves to my button less sweater and I grinned.
My mother looked at the outfit approvingly and I checked my hair one last time in the mirror, just to make sure I didn't look weird.
I opened my car door and I slammed it while Tillie and Johnny sat in the back, enjoying their times, messing up my car floor with their ugly looking doodles!
* * *
"Have fun." I locked my car door, pulling into a driveway.
"Let the games begin." I grinned.
"IT'S A BOUNCE HOUSE!" Tillie and Johnny squealed like little girls. I couldn't help myself but giggle obnoxiously.
I took them over to the bounce house, I took my shoes off and I went in with them.
I stood around text Allison how dumb the party was but, jumping up and down and watching little kids have fun is pretty cute.
I sighed and continued to text Allie.
* * *
I stood by the little holes where the kids were squirming in and out of to get to the other section of the bounce house.
Suddenly, I felt a much bigger and muscular body squirm near my leg and gasp.
"Wow, uh...hi?" I moved away a little.
He started to get up.
"Sorry...caught off guard." He smiled, looking for a hand to shake.
He was so caught off guard, LOOKING AT MY THONG AND ASS.
"Um, I'm Tillie's older sister, Harmony." I smiled.
"I'm Jonathan's older brother, Richard, but they all call me Ricky." He smiled.
Jonathan, that was... JOHNNY.
I gasped. Richard looked a bit confused.
* * *
"Oh, it's nothing. Your brother and my brother are friends." I shrugged.
"Sweet, so I'll be seeing you a lot more?" He grinned.
"I don't know. Wait...I know that face...the hair...the grin, you're Richard Costa!" I laughed.
"Ah, have you heard things about me?" He laughed as well.
"Not really. I go to your school anyway, Harmony Price. I've heard you're a player, but I don't actually give a damn. Rumors are just another word for spread trouble." I babbled on.
~Richard Costa's P.O.V~
This was freaking awesome. The hot girl knew me, and my brother. Plus, her brother is friends with mine, which means, Harmony and I will definitely be a lot closer than a thought. And she goes to Riversdale High. Who would have thought?
"Ah, have you heard good things about me?" I said simply, laughing along with her, after all, I didn't want her to look like a complete freak around the small children.
"Not really. I go to your school anyway, Harmony Price. I've heard you're a player, but don't actually give a damn. Rumors are just another word for spread trouble." She started to talk a lot. I couldn't stand it, but I just nodded.
* * *
"So, I'm picking up Johnny later, have him call from your cell phone, so you don't have to bother giving it to me. I'll stalk you up." I laughed, jokingly.
She laughed as well. "Great, see you later then." She walked off, grabbing Tillie and yelling at Johnny. I really like this girl.
Her pink and black polka dotted thong turned me on, and her butt cheeks were handful sized.
Perfect.
I knew she felt a little embarrassed when I was looking up, in awe. Happily, but I ignored it.
~
comment, raaaaaaaaateeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and yeaah.
