"Paisleigh!" Screeched my older sister, Hannah.
"What?" I hollered back from the bathroom.
"Where's my blue blouse?"
"How would I know?" I strode out the bathroom, walking into my bedroom, brushing Hannah's shoulder in the process, "I don't wear stupid girly crap like that."
"Argh! Mom! Your little delinquent stole my shirt!"
"Stupid slut," I mumbled under my breath.
"Shut up, you dumb mannish country whore," she said, "Don't ya' speak English?" She asked me, mocking my deep southern accent. I used to live with our father, down in Texas, but then I moved back here, to Boulder, Colorado, with my mom and sister.
My parents spilt my sister and I up after they divorced, which I took really hard. My father actually has three other sons, by another woman. Since I was raised around them from the time I was six, I started acting like them as well.
Being a boy is all I know.
I wore cargo pants, black hunting boots, and the same old camouflage hunting hoodie everyday, over one of my dingy old tees.
I also found comfort in wearing boxers instead of panties. It helps me breathe better. I wear sports bras over cupped ones.
"Shut up, you stupid frilly city bitch," I replied, "Don't you know how to speak southern-like?" I mocked, in her proper, clear, high pitched voice.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. She strutted out the room. "Whatever."
YOU ARE READING
The New Guy #AJC
ChickLit16 year old Paisleigh Lively is a tomboy. She prefers tennis shoes over sandals, pants over skirts, pizza over Chipotle, and root beer over Starbucks. Her sister and mom constantly try to change her, but she's not having it. She believes it's okay t...
