1.) First Un-Date

170 2 4


WANTED: A Boyfriend Who Doesn't Suck

Natasha Sapienza

Copyright 2018, All rights reserved

Copyright 2018, All rights reserved

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

PART ONE

THE PHANTOM LOVER

THE PHANTOM LOVER

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

1.) First Un-Date


He's like the sixteen-year-old rebel version of James Franco. I stared at--no, I studied--Chris's profile photo. His olive skin shone flawless, his brown eyes deep and alluring like an ocean glistening at night. About 5'9, slender but toned, sporting a white sleeveless, green cap, and jeans, his Honduran mom and Caucasian dad made him well. A year younger than me, he was the most gorgeous Sophomore I'd ever seen.

My name is Natasha, and I've always been a lover with a decent amount of fighter in me, but that feisty Cuban side usually only emerged when my best friends were being hated on by stuck-up, back-stabbing ex-friends who kicked us out of their lame parties or stupidly acted like they were going to run one of us over while actually driving a car. Or if a guy treated our hearts like a paper ball and thus needed a good slap across the face.

It was my junior year in high school and by now, I'd had ten boyfriends since ninth-grade. My relationships usually lasted two months max; either because I'd fallen out of like with the guy or he was a lying, cheating, immature punk or a controlling prick. For those reasons—and more I'll spare you from—I did most of the dumping. And I'd been cool with flash-flings; they were exciting and kept things fresh. But that changed quite recently.

I had an intense crush on Maxime, this swoon-worthy, French charmer with curly, ash-blond hair and big, blue eyes, who resembled Mel Gibson in his super hot Grease days. He sits beside me in honors English, and finally invited me to hang out with him at his mini-mansion with another Frenchie stud. But though he flirted tons, Maxime totally failed to make a real move. When I confronted him about it, he jammed a dagger in my heart with unfiltered honesty: "Natasha," he'd said with his thick accent, "I have a girlfriend back in France who I am in love with. We are in an open relationship, so I am not looking for anything serious, just someone to have sex with, but I know you're a good girl so I don't want to do that to you. It is best if we remain as friends."

WANTED: A BOYFRIEND WHO DOESN'T SUCKRead this story for FREE!