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“Quiet down, let’s start with the lesson.” I smile as the sub takes authority over the class.
Lad glares at me, but I have won this match fair and square.
I am so glad I have time to actually go back to my cousin’s house and get ready. Not that I am trying to impress anyone; I’m not, fuck those fuckers. But I haven’t felt super-hot in a little while and I thought it would be the perfect occasion to get dazzled up.
“Where are you going looking like a smoke show?” My cousin, Bambi,real name, struts by like she isn’t the perfect ten out of the entire bloodline of beings.
“Bonfire, college stuff, you wouldn’t understand.” I throw a cotton ball at her.
“Interesting, I specifically remember you saying when you got to college you would rather have a flesh-eating disease than hang out with drunk kids your own age.” She’s got me there.
“You know me too well, but I figured I could cause more damage and more bodily harm by attending these events than if I were to stay away and mock them from a distance.” I reach up and fix a hair flying out of my braid.
“How thoughtful of you.” Bambi comes over, undoes my hair, and fixes it for me.
“You’re an angel from the most sacred part of heaven.” I compliment her nonstop. She is the only family who took me in after everything. I am beyond grateful; Bambi is my best friend, my only friend.
We grew up together in a mess of parents not ready to be fathers or mothers. She is four years older than me. Bambi and her high school boyfriend got pregnant when she was seventeen. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but he was the son of the governor and he refused to let her go. Even though his family begged him to cut contact with her. Julian fought for her and confirmed he would rather give up his family than leave her.
They have two little girls now, not yet married, though her boy toy constantly asks her. My cousin denies his proposals, sad, actually torturing the guy. But I think my cousin and I share the same worry. Probably a similar fear as our mothers had with our fathers.
If you give them every part of you and they still leave, will you ever be enough for anyone?
I guess it is the type of love you always hope, wish, and dream about. But Bambi is fiercely independent; she works full-time while the girls are in school and never misses making breakfast or dinner. She even learned how to sew, and I’ve never idolized someone more than her.
Bambi is the least selfish person I know and for her that works great; for me, it ruined my life.
“There you go, pretty perfect if you ask me. Super sorry I can’t do anything to make that face any better.” My cousin jokes and I tickle her until she screams and exits the bathroom.
“Thank you!” I shout, fixing my shirt and lifting my boobs up in my bra. The day weighs them down and gravity isn’t always my friend in this case.
“Thank me after you get laid!” Bambi yells from down the hall.
“Who is getting laid?” Julian stops at the bathroom door.
“Julie, how are you? Hopefully you, I heard your parents are watching the girls tonight. Wow, must be excited to bust a nut in my cousin since last month.” He glares at me then smirks.
“Yes, at least they are trying.” Julian ignores my jab because he adores me too, like the annoying little sister he never knew he needed.
“They could have tried when I had post-partum depression and couldn’t do anything for six months after our second daughter was born. They could have tried when I spent eighteen hours in labor with our firstborn.” Bambi tends to hold grudges, but they seem justifiable.
“I know, babe, I know.” Julian tries to help her fury but standing in the middle of the battle doesn’t seem to help him.
“Listen, buddy. I hope you have a crazy awesome night planned. Your woman in there hasn’t had free time in like years. So if you want to fuck her, do it quick, then leave her the fuck alone. Get her dinner, ice cream, and a full body massage; take her to get her nails done and her hair.” I pat him on the chest and then go back to apply lipstick.
“I already had something planned for our date night.” Julian doesn’t like that my ideas are better than his.
“Well, I am sure there is always room for improvement.” My cousin calls her boyfriend away, and I stare at myself for too long, because words I thought I long since ignored have come back.
They aren’t supposed to be here, they aren’t supposed to taunt me. When my mother died, I thought those insecurities would die along with her.
But I guess some habits are harder to kill.
“What are you doing?” Bambi is back.
“Nothing.” I lose contact with the mirror, shifting my eyes to the counter to clean up my make-up mess.
“You’re not her, Aly.” My cousin sighs, and I wish she wouldn’t, because I might start crying and then I won’t want to leave the house or the bathroom.
