Dear Rosey,
I’ll admit I may have judged Melissa too quickly, she’s not so bad. After being forced to partake in the Stewart family tradition of girl bonding I found I actually enjoyed her company. I’ve never gotten my nails professionally done before, my dad was never comfortable with the girly stuff so I am mostly self-taught when it comes to that stuff. All the nail polish I get comes from dollar stores. Also, it felt nice not to have to go to the movies alone for once.
“I mean does every action movie have to have a cheesy romance plot?” I asked.
We were home and you were in my room, we were laying side by side. Melissa went to meet my dad for a romantic dinner, so you and I were stuck with each other and pizza.
“They are pandering to the female audience.” You snorted.
“Well as a female that is not what I go to an action movie to see.”
“Yeah.” You sighed then you rolled over to face the wall.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Are you weirded out that I lied about my boyfriend?” you asked.
To be honest I had forgotten about it until you brought it up again. Though I was curious as to why you went out of your way to make up an elaborate story and lie to me.
“No. I mean I still don’t know you that well so I can’t really judge you, especially after what you saw me do this morning.”
“So it’s cool then, you aren’t freaked out or anything?” you turned to face me.
“It’s fine,”
“Let’s play a game.” You sat up.
“What kind of game?”
“I tell you something about me, and you have to tell me something about you. So we can get to know each other better. But if someone refuses to answer the question then they have to do a dare.”
“What kind of dare?”
“What’s wrong scared you can’t face the truth.” You wiggled your eyebrows.
“As if.” I playfully pushed you.
“Okay, I’ll go first. Zara what is your most embarrassing memory.”
“Really? That’s the best you got?”
“Hey, we start off tame before we get to the real juice.”
“Okay. Don’t laugh. When I was fourteen I put superglue in Blythe’s shampoo. Once I was caught as punishment my dad made me stand on the side of the road with a sign that said I got a girl into a sticky situation.”
“No! oh my god.” You laughed. Your laugh is so adorable.
“Hey, I said don’t laugh.” I giggled.
“Oh my god, I would have died of embarrassment.”
“Blythe took a picture of me, I bet she still has it. My turn, Rosey why don’t you have a drivers license yet?”
“Easy, because I am literally the worst driver on the planet. My mom tried to teach me how to drive, she gave up after nearly having 20 heart attacks in a row. I tried to learn from my old neighbor but I crashed her car into a pole so yeah...”
“I can teach you once I’m ungrounded.”
“Your funeral, My turn, Zara why do always write in a diary. Isn’t that so outdated? You have a laptop.”
“Well, my therapist said it will help me better if I write it by hand, write my daily experiences and note why it is I got angry, to better help understand what triggers me. That way I can go back and read the parts where I got emotional and assess why. Plus you can delete things off the computer, can’t really delete a diary.”
“Makes sense, it just seems like a lot of work.”
“It is and sometimes I don’t want to write stuff down, but I do. It helps. My turn, Rosey how did your parents split up?”
I knew it was a sensitive topic by the immediate shift in your mood. It was like a dark cloud had formed over your head.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I immediately retracted the question.
“No it’s fine, My dad was never really around to begin with. My mom was his side chick, and when she got pregnant with me he dumped her. I’ve tried contacting him but he never replies.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, My turn, what about your mom what happened to her?”
“Well when I was 12 she and my dad got into this big fight, I mean they fought all the time, but that fight was different. Next thing I know she’s leaving, she tried to take me with her but my dad wouldn’t let her. Till this day he won’t let me contact her. I have no idea where she lives or what her number is.”
“I’m sure he has a reason.” You grabbed my hand.
“Maybe it’s better if I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“Okay enough with the dark stuff come on ask me a fun one.” You pulled me closer to you.
“Okay, what is your deepest darkest desire,” I said in my best sexy voice.
“Zara.” You pushed me, laughing.
“You said to get to the juice.”
I could see your cheeks get red and I knew you were thinking about something naughty. I felt accomplished in corrupting you.
“Well, I think you already know.” You whispered.
“That’s not a straight answer.” I teased.
“Oh come on, don’t make me say it.”
“Would you rather do a dare?”
“Okay fine.” Your face got even redder.
“Well?”
“I want someone to go down on me, and not just anyone, I want it to be a girl.”
“Oh my god, Rosey!”
“What! I mean if anyone knows how to make a girl feel good it would be another girl.”
“Naughty, naughty, how many times have you gotten off imagining that?”
“Hey, it’s my turn now you perv. What’s your deepest darkest desire?”
I could feel my face get hot as I imagined myself going down on you. I could hear your moans, just like that day. I swallowed loudly and forced myself to push the thought from my head.
“Oh my god you totally just imagined it, tell me.”
“No way.”
“Zara oh come on I told you mine.”
No way was I going to tell you that my deepest darkest desire is wanting to be with you.
“No just give me a dare.”
“I dare you to tell me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Just say it.”
“No.”
“I won’t tell, is it weird, are you a furry?”
“No, I’m not a furry.” I pushed you and laughed.
“Just say it.”
“Just give me a dare,” I whined
“Fine since you are such a chicken, I want you to strip down to your underwear and do the chicken dance. I shall record it and use it as blackmail.” You smiled deviously.
“What! You are ridiculous! What exactly will this accomplish?”
“Well say I might want to sneak out and need you to cover for me, boom chicken dance. Or if not blackmail think of it as like a memento of this day. Something we can look back on and laugh at.”
It sounded insane and embarrassing, but how could I say no to those sparkling eyes.
“Fine, but I swear if this ends up on the internet you are so dead.”
“Deal.” You giggled and got your phone ready.
So I slipped out of my shorts and threw off my shirt and stood there in my kitty cat underwear and my black bra.
“Oh my god, what are you wearing!” You laughed.
“Hey in my defense I didn’t know I was going to be putting on a strip show today.”
“Okay, okay just do the dance, I’m recording.”
Humiliating doesn’t begin to describe that moment. Sure it is not the bad type of humiliation I mean it was just you and me, but still. Cat underwear and chicken dance will be all you see when you think of me now. Why am I so embarrassing!?
“Are you mad at me, don’t be mad.” You giggled as I sat down and crossed my arms, still in my underwear I might add. My face was super red, not from anger but from embarrassment.
“Zara, come on I’ll only use it if I have too.” You wrapped your arms around me.
When I still didn’t answer you forced me to look at you by grabbing my chin.
“Come on say it, say Rosey I forgive you.” You tried to make my mouth move by squeezing my cheeks.
“Okay, okay. Stop it already.” I finally cracked and swatted your hand away.
“You're so red, next time you’ll think twice about that cat underwear.” You teased.
You're definitely right about that, I am going to burn these underwears and any that I have like them. Never again will I be caught dead wearing kitty cat undies.
“It’s not funny.” I pouted.
“It’s a little funny.”
Then we looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“You’re the worst.” I tackled you and started tickling you.
“Hey! Okay, wait, have mercy!” you laughed.
We rolled around on my bed till I had finally pined you and assaulted you with tickles. Your laugh, that is something I could listen to all day. I love how bubbly it is, how it fills the room. How it is contagious. I love everything about it.
Then I stopped, and things got all too real. I had you pinned, I was nearly nude! You were breathing heavy your face red and your eyes locked with mine. Our lips were only a few inches apart. I may have leaned in a little bit, but lucky for me I quickly stopped myself. Removing my hands from your wrist.
“Sorry.” I mumbled.
You stopped me from pulling back by grabbing my shoulders and forcing me closer again. Then you slowly slide a hand up my neck to my face the pads of your fingers just barely grazing my skin. A shiver ran down my spine. You slowly removed my glasses from my face using your other hand to trace my cheekbone. I felt my face get hot.
I could see this darkness in your eyes, a storm of uncertainty. A spider spinning a web of confusion and possibly desire. Looking at those eyes took my breath away.
“You have pretty eyes.” You took the words right out of my mouth.
“Not as pretty as yours.” I meant it as something light-hearted, but it came out as a whispered admission.
“Please, blonds with blue eyes nothing special but you… You’re beautiful. I love your naturally black hair, I love how thick it is.” You said as you ran your fingers through it touching my scalp.
I sighed in content.
“I love your eyes, the way they are a mix between brown and green. It’s like you have a whole forest in there.” You shuddered.
“Thank you.” Was all I could think to say, you made me speechless.
Then you leaned in, and so did I, but we both stopped before we could kiss. Your lips were brushing against mine. I was breathing heavy. I could feel this pull coming from you like your soul was crying out to mine. My soul was reaching out for yours.
To me, you are like this forbidden fruit. I know if I take a bite I’ll be damned for all of eternity, but that doesn’t stop me from being tempted. I’m not afraid I’ll be cursed or that a snake might wrap around my throat and kill me. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stop myself from eating the whole fruit despite knowing what it will do to me. I’m afraid that I’ll take you with me in my damnation just as Eve did to Adam.
“Sorry,” I say again, but it comes out as something between a whisper and a whimper.
I pulled back and you are just as red in the face as I am sure I was.
You said you lied to me about Beck because you didn’t want to seem weird about it, but now I am wondering if you lied because you are still feeling what I am. If we are still locked in this strange dance. If you are still very in fact into me that would be a better reason to lie.
“You should get dressed. Um, why don’t we go watch your dad's Friends stash? I’ll meet you downstairs.” You sat up.
“Okay.”
Then you walked out, once again I was brought back to the reality that I was in kitty cat underwear. Why!?
On the couch, we sat cuddled up next to each other on the love seat. This might sound weird but your hair smells so nice. It’s why I rested my head on your shoulder so I could continue to breathe in lung fulls of your scent.
“Rosey.”
“Emmm?”
“Thank you for today,” I said.
You didn’t say anything you just grabbed my hand in your own and interlocked our fingers. The tv might as well have been off because I had a feeling neither of us was actually watching it.
I was more than content to just sit by your side and fall asleep.
I had to write it all down the way it happened, word for word on what you said because I don’t ever want to forget this day. I don’t want my brain to change it and make it better or worse, I want to remember it just as it happened. Cat undies and all.
Even if we drift apart or if I do something ruin what we have at least I will always have this day and I’ll know that it’s not completely impossible for me to be a normal teenager and have normal teenager problems.
Thank you for giving that to me.
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