A new story <-_->
Yes I know, I'm a loony with a million thoughts running through my head!! Lol
Sorry, but I love this forbidden love kind of stuff as many people call it ^__^
:P
OK here goes!! :D
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I looked out off the huge balcony overlooking the beach. "Uggh," I muttered, rubbing my arms against the cold ocean breeze. I pulled down the skirt on the stupid slutty dress my mom had made me wear. A sickened look washed over my face as I replayed what had happened the other night.
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"Honey, please! Don't argue with me," my mother pleaded as she stuffed two over-sparkly diamond earrings into her ears. I rolled my eyes, pulled my legs up onto the couch, and pulled my gray graphic tee below my knees.
"All I'm saying is that this guy is trying to buy you off," I grumbled, angrily staring at my nails.
My mother looked at herself in the dresser mirror and applied another layer of mascara on her already raccoon-like eyes. "James loves me and I love him," she said, giving me a stern look. "And you're just going to have to get used to that," she said plainly. She stood in her red dress, which fell just above the knee. "Now go pack. We're going to head off tomorrow."
The doorbell rang and I rolled my eyes angrily. My mother hopped off to get the door, calling out, "I might not be back tonight! Make yourself ricearoni!!"
Ew. I angrily trudged up the stairs, slamming the door behind me.
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I shivered in disgust at the thought of James, my mom's twenty-four year old boyfriend. They'd been dating for a little over three months now. That meant twelve weeks of "Oh! Jamie is so sweet!" and "James treats me better than any other man I've met!"
"Disgusting," I mumbled to myself. And now, to add to the kiss-ass impression I already had of him, he had to drag us BOTH out here to enjoy his luxurious beach house. "Oh go fuck yourself," I mumbled, yanking my white pea coat off of the mahogany balcony chair next to me. I threw it on and got up from my chair. It was only 3:25 pm, so that gave me a good thirty minutes to explore this shit-shack before my mother and her obnoxious-most-likely-gay boyfriend came home.
I clicked down the stairs in the nude peach heels my mother had given me. Paired with a pale yellow summer dress and many pieces of crappy jewelery apparently provided by James, I looked like a freaking pansy.
Pushing the deck door open, I was immediately embraced by the cool grip of the sea air. It was kind of relaxing, and if it hadn't of been for the thought of my mom with a player sixteen years younger than her, I would have been all for this little trip.
But no. The reality was that my mother was a cougar, I'm sure her boyfriend was under the influence of pink, and I was stuck here with them overnight, where I knew all they'd do was spend time with each other. Alone. Oh God.
I huffed and pushed a thick black curl over my shoulder. It wasn't that I didn't want my mom to be in love again, I did want her to live happily. Just a little nearer to her age group is all.
I stepped onto the moist sand and my heels sunk in. I took them off and began pacing barefoot on the shore.
I noticed farther up that my feet weren't the only ones leaving prints on the sand. There were other ones, a pair of feet, much larger than mine, printed into the soft grains of sand.
