Enemies With Benefits

Three~ "We Don't Own Guns..."

Three~ "We Don't Own Guns..."

July 9th, 2013- Tuesday

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"Come on, you look gorgeous!" Vic groans, yanking on my arm.

I furiously shake my head, "First of all, no I don't. Second of all, I feel like a slut. Therefore, I am not entering that house until I'm wearing something that at least covers my thighs. This thing barely covers half of my thighs!"

She glares at me, "Come on, Dani, he'll be here in like five minutes! You look great, and it's the perfect outfit to show of your great new body!" I glance down at the navy blue dress I was forced to wear with brown gladiator heels. Sure, I'm no longer ashamed of my body, but that didn't mean I wanted to parade around in dresses that didn't even reach my mid-thigh.

Do you know what it took to get me in this dress?

Let's say I'm fifty bucks richer and stuffed with the best burrito Moe's could make.

Come on, her bribing had to do with Mexican food! I was a goner.

Oh, and she forced me to let her do my makeup. Meaning, she had put black eyeliner on me with that wing thingy off to the side. Along with that was tan and gold sparkling eyeshadow. She put a little bit of concealer on my face because I'm not a stereotypical blonde with perfect skin. That would be a little too cliche, right? Having perfect skin is pretty much impossible especially with the pimple that I had under my bangs...

Forget I said that.

Now.

Right now.

Seriously.

Forget it.

Have you forgotten yet?

Good.

You may continue.

"Nope," I yank my arm back, standing my ground against Vic.

Vic fell to the ground, luckily missing a puddle. If she would've landed in the puddle, her bubblegum pink dress would probably be ruined. She would've killed me if I ruined her bubblegum pink dress.

As much as I love Vic, her choice in clothes can sicken me to the point I want to curl over and hurl. I'm so sorry for that image... That dress has way too much pink in it. Now, if it was neon green or blue, I would happily wear it with some black spiked heels.

I wondered what it would be like to have a bubblegum dress. As in, a dress made out of pink bubble gun. Would it back really sticky and never come off of my skin? How much bubblegum would you have to chew until you have enough? Huh, the questions of life... LOL with Tim and Moby. I'm off topic, aren't I? Whoops.

Mom suddenly storms out of the Wentworth house to glare daggers at me. "Danielle Cecelia Tyler, get your little ass into that house before I kick it there! For once in your life, listen to someone else other than yourself!"

Isn't my mother just the best mother ever? Please do note my sarcasm.

I'm pretty sure if she saw a turtle in the road, she would swerve just to run it over.

Man, that was a sad image.

I'm sorry.

I'm aplogizing a lot, aren't I?

Whoops. Sorry.

I did it again, didn't I?

Right, just continue, please...

I huff indignantly, "I don't listen to myself all the time. Please, I barely even think stuff through."

Vic stares at me. "That just makes it worse... Now, get in the house! I can literally see his car pulling into the neighborhood! Go, go, go!" she goes behind me to start pushing instead of pulling.

My mom grabs my arm and yanks me like Vic had done. I give in, trudging with the two of them into the house. More than fifty people- mostly girls, of course- were spread out through the house. They all excitedly looked at the door, ready to squeal until they saw it was us. Groaning, they went back to sipping their drinks and chatting about who knows what. I sigh, heading into the kitchen to get a drink that I hoped someone had spiked.

"Wait!" Vic literally knocks the drink out of my hand. It splatters across the floor and one of the Wentworth's maids hurries to clean it up. I whimper at the red dripping from the counter tops to the puddle forming on the white floor tile of the kitchen. "You can't drink that!"

I give her a weird look, "Why not?"

"Because if you spill it then it will-"

I cut her off, "It'll blend with the dress. Leave me alone in my time of misery, Vic. I need to drink so that way he hopefully won't get on my nerves too much." She glares at me as I make another cup of the weird red liquid, and I take a sip. Sure enough, the liquid burns my throat and I whoop loudly when I realize that someone had spiked it.

"What's with you?" Vic eyes me and then she eyes the cup.

"It's spiked, thank God!" I take another sip happily.

She rolls her eyes, "I swear you're going to be an alcoholic in a few years."

I pout, "That's not fair! You know I only really drink when Jack is anywhere near me. And, right now, his black '68 Mustang GT California Special is pulling into the driveway. Therefore, he's way too close for my taste." I gasp, choking on my drink when I realize what I just said. "He's here!" I screeched, chugging down the rest of the thick liquid in my cup.

Vic smirks, "Someone a little excited?" she teases.

Even my best friend was teasing me as if I had a crush on her brother. I have to admit, Jack was slightly cute before he left, but he had a really short haircut then. Though, girls still swooned over him because he was such a bad boy. I was never one for bad boys since I'm technically a bad girl. The two don't really mix well.

See, you expect the good girl and the bad boy to get together. Not a girl that's almost as bad as the boy himself. It's not as cliche when the bad boy gets the bad girl.

I have never, ever been a "good girl". Even when I was a baby I was serious trouble for my parents. My mother told me I used to break out of every crib they ever got me and they would find me sleeping on the living room floor in the morning with the TV on something like Dora. I was a ninja even then, suckas!... Right, we're in the present time...

Raising an eyebrow at her, I reply. "Nope," I pop my 'p', "reality is just now crashing down on me. I'm about to be thrown into a sarcastic war. Get out the big guns!"

"We don't own guns..."

I stare at my best friend, "Sometimes I could swear you're the blonde in this relationship..."

"Psh, idiot, I'm half Mexican, I can't have blonde hair along with all this," she gestures to herself.

"You mean with your pinkness? I understand..."

"No, you dope!" Hurtful... "I meant with my awesomely Mexicano skin tone, yo."