It wasn't like I had a choice in this matter. I know I never had a choice anyway. After all, this girl was irresistible, & who am I to deny her?
Who am I to deny her, under me, asking me if she could take my virginity away? Who am I to deny an offer...
Oups ! Cette image n'est pas conforme à nos directives de contenu. Afin de continuer la publication, veuillez la retirer ou télécharger une autre image.
"Thank you for helping me Nic Nac," Ming said as she dumped one of the last trash bags as we clean up all the dirty mess in her living room. We decided to clean this place last because it literally had every single disgusting thing you can find. I found a ripped out panty in between one of the couch cushions and that was gross.
"No problem," I reply simply, tying up another bag to throw away as I wipe sweat out of my forehead, staring blankly at the now cleaned floor from where chunks of slushies were once splashed on.
What did bitch-face Kelly and Beyoncé do when they left the party? Probably suck each other's face or something.
I roll my eyes at myself and cross my arms together. What does it matter to me anyway?
Just as I open another bag, Ming eyes me wearily before sighing, catching my attention as she leans back on one of the tables. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but, why was Beyoncé slushied in my college party last night?" she asks me with an arched eyebrow.
I clear my throat and busy myself with putting more garbage inside the bags when I feel my nose scrunch together as I pick up a solo cup mixed with—I can't even describe it.
Ming sighs. "Don't ignore the question, Nicki, this is my house."
I throw her a glare and bite my lower lip. "This is my house too." I shot back, hissing.
Ming doesn't seem to be amused though. "Used to be—it's not my fault your parents wanted a home for just three of you guys."
That's right, Ming isn't my actual sister, she's my step-sister. My dad married her mother but when Ming's mother died, he moved on pretty quickly and married my mom and now they're in love and traveling around the world while working at the same time. Ming hated Dad, she did—because she thought he'd be in love with her mother for like forever but that never happened, yet she never hated my mom nor me. In fact, the only reason why she's still in touch with us is because of us—at first, she didn't want to talk to me when we were kids but now we're like best friends and I really appreciate all Ming has done for me.
That's why she calls our Dad, 'my' parents. She calls our Dad, Robert, while she calls my mom, Mama—it's weird but it makes sense at the same time.
"And your lucky father left the mansion to you," I reply, tying another bag.
"Okay... so what's wrong with asking why Beyoncé got drenched in slushy last night?" she asks me back, arching an eyebrow. "It's not like it's that bad of a question."
I clench my fists and avoid her look, not wanting to answer that question. Ming always left me vulnerable.
"Like—you called me and told me she was your girlfriend—that's why you were holding hands and doing shit in the bathroom." Ming goes on, scratching her head. "So isn't it obvious that I'd be asking you why your girlfriend was slushied by your weird cheerleading friends?"
