𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐎𝐕 was the type of girl who wouldn't take shit from anyone.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄 was the type of guy who would give her hell just to spite her.
♚
❝𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 �...
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ＢＡＤ ＭＯＯＮ ＲＩＳＩＮＧ
𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩
♟
I release a soft groan as the boy behind me kisses back up to my jawline. His hand rests on my bare waist as I pull the sheets back up to cover him. I reluctantly pull away from him and rise. At this point, I don't care about what he sees.
I clean up and throw on some underwear and an oversized hoodie, not bothering to put on my bra while he gets dressed.
"Just to double-check, you're completely fine with this just being a one-night stand?" he asks cautiously.
I smile, turning to him and kissing him. "Freddie, you've asked me that a hundred times tonight, and every time my answer has been 'yes'."
He slips his shirt on over his head. "Okay. Wait, shit. Sorry, do you have a cigarette?"
Never have I had such a polite hookup. I giggle softly. "Yeah."
I carry a pack of cigarettes with me at all times. Not for myself, as I don't smoke, but for any guy who might be cute and needs one. I lead Freddie down the stairs and outside, and hand him a lit stick.
He thanks me and I nod, waving goodbye to him as he drives off. I roll my neck, the weight of my tousled bun falling to each side. I let my long locks fall onto my shoulders and brush a hand through them.
My new phone, one of the gifts my father has given me for Hannukah, rings on the inside of my house. I toss the pack of cigs and lighter on the counter as I pick the device up.
"Volkov," I mumble through a mouthful of cookie.
"Anastasia?"
"Oh, hey, Donna. What's up?"
"The gang is going to a ski house over the weekend and I managed to convince Hyde to let us invite you. Do you want to come?"
"Sure."
"Cool. Come by Eric's tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I plop the phone down and hoist myself into the counter. A week or two ago, I would have surprised myself by agreeing, but the little group of misfits has honestly grown on me. I have to keep up appearances at school, so I don't sit with them at lunch, but I often stop by the basement to hang out and occasionally get high.
After eating another five or so cookies, I realize that I should pack for the trip. I ignore the aching in my hips as I climb the stairs back up to my room. I rip the sheets off of the bed and shove them into the washing machine before finding a mixtape of mine to play. I move my waist and bop my head to the beat, having myself a little dance party as I collect things to take on the trip.
