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Her long blonde hair was parted to the side of her head and it was brushed down, past her shoulders. She had on a silky little tank top and a short little jean skirt that was showing off her sexy toned legs. Her breasts pushed hard at the shirt as if they were trying to escape, and I hoped she was really and truly trying to show off her body for me. Fuck, I was prepared to beat the other guys off with my fists.
Chapter Five
Mandy
What had started out as an innocent ruse quickly transformed into a real bona fide date. What the hell just happened?
Part of me still thought I had somehow imagined it as I tore through my closet trying to find something to wear. Quiet, reserved Brett had not only made sure to inform me that the date was very much real, but he looked so damn serious as he also told me he fully intended on kissing me afterwards.
Who does he think is? One part of my brain demanded. He thinks he can just boss me around? I should just tell him to fuck off.
But the other part of me, the part I keep buried down deep, was excited. Oh my god, he told me… he told me as if it was a fact that I couldn’t argue. And I liked it. I liked that he did it. There was just something about it that was sexy as hell. And I think if any other guy tried to do that to me, I would have kicked him in the nuts to make him regret it.
But Brett, I sighed dreamily while holding a skirt and blouse up to my body as I checked my reflection in my mirror. I wouldn’t hurt his nuts. Ha.
After settling on a silky purple tank top and a short blue jean skirt, I swiped some mascara on my lashes and glazed my lips with a bright pink gloss. My phone dinged and buzzed, and I snatched it off my bed. It was another text from Grace.
Grace: So I heard from Tiffany who heard from Jake that Eric has something special planned for you tonight.
Me: OMG Shut up
Grace: rofl tonight is going to be FUN
Fun was followed by a long line of emojis that were laughing so hard they were crying
Me: I’m not going now!
Grace: No! You promised bitch.
I sighed loudly, and considered ditching the party and asking Brett to hang out somewhere else. But I did promise Grace. But crap, it was Eric’s party and if he had something planned for me he was going to be pissed when I showed up with another guy.
Me: Then you need to get the word out that I’m showing up with someone!
Grace: I’ll pass it along. But you better show up! Or I’ll tell everyone about Mr. Fuzz
Me: You wouldn’t!
Grace had been threatening me with that since eighth grade. She would never blast my secrets, and I would have never blasted hers. But every once in a while you just had to put your best friend in their place and remind her that you know all of her dirty little secrets and you’ve done her right by keeping them that: secrets buried in your heart.
Grace: See ya there =D
Me: Later bitch
One more glance in the mirror then I checked the time on my phone. It was eight-thirty. I already told my parents I was going out that night, and they were totally cool. My parents fully encouraged me to enjoy my high school experience, they certainly enjoyed theirs. My mom and dad were high school sweethearts, homecoming queen and king. My mother was the head cheerleader and my father was the star quarterback. Their story was straight out of some teen bop fairy tale.
The way my parents talked about their high school days it always sounded as if those were the best days of their lives. There was no college because I was a surprise, as my father liked to call it, while my mother let slip that I was an accident. My mother discovered she was pregnant with me right before graduation so she and my father did the right thing, they got married and settled down. My father didn’t need college, thankfully, my grandfather owned the local hardware store which he passed down to my father and would someday pass down to me. But my mom… she always seemed kind of bitter when she talked about not getting a chance to pursue a modeling career in New York. She fully supported, and sometimes it even felt like she demanded, that I chase my dream and move to California.
“Amanda,” my mom’s cool voice called out to me as I tried to silently sneak down the front stairs and out the front door.
While my parents were cool with me going out and having fun, my mom could sometimes be a pill about how I looked.
Groaning, I thumped down the last of the stairs. She must have been hanging out around the corner, waiting for me to come down.
“Yes, mom?” I asked and dropped my sandals to the floor, slipping them on.
“You’re going out dressed like that?” she asked, pursing her lips as she looked me up and down.
I looked down at myself. Yeah, it was a little casual but it was a house party not the fucking prom.
