Chapter 1: Does your mother know that you're out
"Ashley, you are not going to wear that outfit!"
Mom is complaining about my wardrobe. What else is new? We've had discussions about this particular outfit before. 'Skirt is too short', 'Shirt shows too much skin', 'You dress like a whore' to name a few of the jabs she bestows upon me. I don't oblige her with a response. I simply grab my purse and walk out the door. She forced me to come to Cancun with her. I never understand why she needs me to go on her vacations. It's not like she spends any time with me. She's always out and about with whatever man flirts with her that day. Not that I mind. Although I'd never admit it to her, but I enjoy her vacations just as much she does. It gives me a chance to go out and hook up with random girls without having to worry if I'll run into them at some point later.
That's always an odd predicament. One time I fucked this 'straight' girl in the alley behind this club I go to, Ego. The next day at school, everyone was looking at me funny and whispering stuff that I couldn't decipher. It wasn't until my best friend, Logan, told me that this girl was telling everyone that I took advantage of her while she was drunk. I would have normally been pissed off. But I was too lost in my thoughts about how I didn't even realize that the girl went to the same school as me. Usually I'm pretty careful about that. So I could really only blame myself. And it's not like my reputation at school was any good to begin with. Her stupid lie wasn't going to hurt it. I was already the school Slut/Dyke.
Logan was more upset than I was. She decided to defend my honor by following the girl into the bathroom and beating the crap out of her. Logan was suspended for that. God I love her. If I didn't see her as a sister, I could almost see us being in a relationship. Except that she is straight. But that's never been a problem for me before. See: 'Stupid Girl from Ego'. And the fact that I just don't do relationships. I like girls too much to be tied down to just one.
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"Kettle One and Tonic."
I order my drink of choice and scan the bar from wall to wall. There are a lot of people here tonight. Which is good, because it just gives me more of a variety to choose from. I don't think I'm conceited, but I've been told that I'm hot. Who am I to argue? Besides, I have eyes and a mirror. When I get dolled up for a night on the town, I study myself in it, and the first thought that comes to my mind is 'I'd do me'. And I have good taste.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Says the boy with wavy blonde hair that just leaned against the bar counter next to me.
"I just ordered. But you can pay." What? Just because I'm into girls doesn't mean I'm stupid. A free drink is a free drink.
"You here on vacation?" He lays his hand lightly on my knee as he speaks. I'm not nearly inebriated enough for this.
"No, I own the hotel." I look away toward the bartender to hide my eye roll. What type of lame question was that? I'm 17, Caucasian, and obviously in a bar full of tourists.
"Really?! Then why do you need me to pay for your drink?" Is he for real? He actually believes that I own the bar? What an idiot.
The bartender sets a napkin down in front of me laying my drink down on top of it. My suitor takes out a 10 dollar bill and drops it to the counter. I pick up my drink and walk toward the back of the bar where there are some empty booths, hoping the idiot doesn't follow me.
No luck. As soon as I slide into a booth, I notice him eagerly sliding in to the seat across from me.
"I'm Glen. And you don't really own the bar."
"Logan. And you're right." Do you really think I want this tool to know my name?
"You don't look like a Logan."
I don't answer. A: Because I'm bored with him, B: Because I'm shocked that maybe he isn't as stupid as I thought, and C: There is this absolutely gorgeous blonde walking over that I can't take my eyes off of.
"Gleeeeeen! I'm SOOO glad you dragged me here!" She slurs in exaggeration as she sloppily leans over the table to speak closely to the blonde boy. She thinks she's whispering but it's coming out as yelling. And it's adorable. "Why do YOU always get the hooooot ones?" She looks over to me and her pout turns into a half smile as our eyes meet. I'm staring into the most breathtakingly innocent blue eyes I have ever seen. I can feel tingles travel down my neck, through my arms, to my finger tips. Her eyes have not left mine when I have to roll my shoulders to try to suppress the weird electric shivers coursing through my muscles. Just then, her eyes avert back to the moron. "You going to inter... intra... In tro DUCE us?!" I giggle at her struggle to speak.
"Spencer, this is Logan. Logan, my sister Spence. Who apparently thinks girls are hot when she's drunk." He looks annoyed. How can he be annoyed with this cute human being that is practically laying on top of the table in front of us? And who can blame her? I am hot.
"Nice to meet you, Spencer." She fumbles toward me and grabs my hand, sending another round of shock waves through my body. Only this time they travel in reverse from her hand through mine and straight to my shoulders.
"Same." She bats her eyes and paralyzes me with a seductive grin. I can't shake the tingles and I realize it is because she hasn't let go of my hand. In fact, her fingers are gently stroking my palm.
I hurriedly prop myself out out of the booth and walk to the dance floor, yelling over my shoulder "Thanks for the drink!"
I don't know what the fuck that was back there. But I wasn't about to hang around too long to figure it out. I've never felt tingles before and I'm sure as hell that nothing good can come from them.
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OK. So I'm a little off my game right now. As soon as I stepped onto the dance floor, I forgot exactly what I was there to do. That blonde haired, blue eyed, tingler was still on my mind. Lucky for me, I'm not one to be missed. Before I had time to dwell on the adorably cute drunk girl from before, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and was met with... an adorably cute drunk girl. Oh, not so lucky.
"Logan."
"Spencer?"
Silence. AWKWARD. Davies, you have completely lost it tonight. What is wrong with you? Stop looking into those eyes.
"Why you run off? Glen was saaaad." She extends the word sad and brings her index fingers to the corners of her mouth and glides them down her face creating a pout. God she is cute.
"Not my type." I blow some stray strands of hair out of my face feigning aggravation.
"We're on a dance floor." Random. I chalk it up to her being drunk.
"You're smart." What? I had to say something.
"You're not dancing." She lays her arms over my shoulders, wraps her hands around my neck, and begins to move to the beat of the loud music. She is so not in rhythm. But I won't tell her.
"You're straight." I'm experienced. I just know.
"You're not so smart." Cough. She reaches out to take my hands, which have been glued to my sides through this entire exchange, and places them on her hips.
"You're drunk." Because I'm just not wrong about these things.
"You're preeeety." And now she has her face buried in my neck. I can feel her breathing against it as her arms fall to the small of my back. We're not really dancing anymore. What would I call this? Hugging? Oh god. The tingling is back.
I gently extract my arms from her embrace and peel her away from me. Holding her by the arms but keeping her a safe distance away, I feel my stomach drop as she looks up to me with disappointment. It doesn't go unnoticed that her eyes have turned grey. And I can't help but want to bring them back to their natural blue state. I give myself an internal pep talk. You can do this, Davies. This girl is gorgeous. You've slept with plenty of straight girls. What is so different about this one?
I turn her around slowly and she dejectedly starts to walk toward the booths. I grab her hands to stop her movement. I press myself against her back and lean in to whisper "Where do you think you're going?"
I never let go of her hands as I wrap them around her body to her midsection. I love how it feels to have my arms around her as our bodies fit perfectly together. With every beat of the song, I push my pelvis into her backside and I can honestly say that I've never been so turned on in my life. This girl is doing things to me that I am unable to comprehend. Suddenly, I do not feel so bad about talking myself into this. I whisper into her ear again "Come with me." This time I allow my lips to brush her ear and I tease with a slight flick of my tongue to her lobe.
That shocked her because she jumped away and turned to look at me with such innocence and ignorance. I notice her blue eyes are back and I smirk. Rolling my eyes I grab her hand and lead her to the bathroom. Straight girls!
