Page 118 of Driftwood Daffodil

“Nova,” Memphis sighed. “You made out with a Mancini…”

I cut him off right then and there. “I didn’t make out with him. He kissed me.”

He crossed his arms, “And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”

“No. It was just some stupid bullshit crap meant to get to me.” That was it.

Memphis’s brow rose, “Did it?”

Yes.

“Of course not.”

He tipped his head and I could practically hear the ‘who is she trying to fool’ roll through his mind.

“I’m fine Memphis.”

“Uh huh? Is that why you decided to dress like Cindy?”

“Hey! I look much better in this shirt than Cindy would.” She had a lot more in the chest area though. And this sparkly brown tank top I stole from my sister’s closet, did redefine the word plunging in plunging neckline. “Besides, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“That’s right, I forgot about your whore status.” Memphis slid his eyes my way then added, “H O R E.”

My eye twitched a little. “Nice face by the way. Did you have to use the whole bottle of concealer?”

Okay, that was a low blow. Memphis was sticking up for me, but I didn’t ask him to. In fact I tried many times to point out his incapabilities in the fighting department. He did a good job on his face. Most of his bruises were successfully hidden. The swelling under his left eye however… If all else failed he could have a decent career in the make-up industry.

Memphis sneered back at me, “I used less than you did to look like a normal person.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not wearing concealer.” All I had on was some glittery eyeshadow, mascara and a touch of red tinted lip gloss. “And I look fabulous.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…” Memphis’s eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”

Why would I be up to anything? It wasn’t like I walked around plotting stuff all the time. I did today, but that was beside the point.

“Is there something wrong with looking good?” And I did look good. I even took the time to curl my hair.

He leaned back to once again eye my outfit, “Could those shorts be any shorter?”

“Well, they are called shorts.” And the denim material covered my ass, that was all that mattered.

“I like the shirt.”

Really? Besides for the black cowboy boots on my feet, my shirt was the one thing I thought Memphis would complain about.

“It’s a little low cut though.”

There we go.

“Luckily I don’t have boobs, so I think I’m good.”

Unlike stupid Cindy with her full chest. How was that fair? She shook her ass at any guy who happened by, yet I was the one who got dubbed whore. Oh well. This was one party where I wouldn’t have to put up with her petty competition.

Cindy didn’t go to St Agatha’s and therefore wouldn’t be at the bonfire. That kind of made me sad. Who was I going to make snide comments about now?

“Trust me,” Memphis grumbled while turning to look out the window. “You have boobs.”

“Memphis Blake,” I sucked in a fake gasp. “Have you been checking out my breasts?”

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