Page 3 of Pucking Grey

Sydney gasps. “He laughed?”

“He must find it real entertaining to see his hater shoving his dick in someone he’s already been with.” I play with the corner of the placemat and say, “I don’t know about going to the party tonight. I need to stay home and cry.”

She points her immaculate fingernail at me. “No!”

I hide my pain. “It’s been one day, Syd. I found out about the video yesterday!”

She reaches for me across the table. “I know, babe, but you need to show Matt that you don’t care. Get drunk, dance, and then come home and cry after.” She smiles at me, so I nod. “Forget about that asshole, Grey. It was a long shot anyway. He only cares about hooking up. I told you he’d be that way.”

I nod, replaying the rude way Greyson saidno. And how he said he would never sleep with me. He’s a total asshole. The sting of those words makes me feel worse because if the hot guy who sleeps around doesn’t want me that must mean I am ugly, I am stupid, and I am worthless, and I deserve to be cheated on. I can’t imagine the type of woman Greyson must go for if he turned me down so quickly.

“What time do we leave?” I ask.

She stands from the table, grabbing her things. “Let’s get ready now. You need to look hot.”

Upstairs in her room, which is my favorite room in the house because of her wonderful sense of style, she applies minimal makeup to my face. I’m sitting at her vanity, facing her as she applies whatever this crap is on my face.

“I know you’re not a makeup girl, so don’t worry, it’s going to be very subtle. You’ll be glowing.” She dabs a stick of something on my cheeks and then on my nose. I keep my eyes closed until she’s done. I’m enjoying this because I grew up with three brothers. There was never a moment in time when I ever got into this makeup or fashion thing.

“If I cry, will it run?” I ask as she does my eyelashes.

“You’re not allowed to cry until we get home.”

I smile, holding in my laugh, and say, “Okay.”

She blows on my lashes. “Okay. Now for my favorite part.” She claps once with excitement. “I know exactly what you should wear.”

I glance at her closet, feeling a bit too excited. Everything Sydney wears is gorgeous. Designer or not designer, her clothes always look good. Or maybe it’s just her.

“I need to find my style,” I call out, imagining how exciting it must be to have a fun wardrobe. It’s now on my list of things to do: Build a dream wardrobe.

“You’ll figure it out,” she murmurs. “You’ll need to try different clothes and find what works for your figure. Okay, so I was thinking we could either wear something bright or sexy.”

“I don’t know about bright,” I say, recalling that Greyson called me a little girl. “I need sexy. Hot. I need to look hot.”

“Like feather sleeves?” She pulls out a black long-sleeved top with feathered cuffs. The neckline is wide, so it must be off the shoulder. It looks sexy. “Or a bare back with a tie?” She pulls out a brown top that is a piece of cloth with strings. “It’s hot on. You like this one, don’t you?” She wiggles it as I stare, imagining my tiny frame in it. Every part of my back will be on display. She lays it nicely on her bed. “With this, you absolutely should wear leather pants and boots.”

“Is that hot or army girl?” I ask, imagining that I would look like a tomboy instead of a college hot girl.

“Okay, jeans then. I have the perfect denim. Cancel the boots and you can wear these pumps.”

“The boots will do,” I smile, nodding at the pair she brought out. The outfit looks hot against her white comforter and pinkish rug. I only hope it looks good on. “No bra?”

She shakes her head. “No bra.”

I take the clothes and put it on while she searches her closet for her outfit. I pull up the pants, and they glide on smoothly. This is unlike any denim I’ve ever felt before.

“Your ass looks great in those.”

“It’s a good thing we’re the same size,” I say, turning to look at my bottom in the mirror.

She shakes her head. “No, my butt doesn’t look that good. I’m basically P-shaped. Those are baggy on me. You have a great ass and great boobs.”

I look at my boobs as I change into the top. She ties me up, tightening it. My nipples are hard because it’s freezing in here. Sydney doesn’t like how the heaters dry out her skin, so it’s always cold in her room. When she’s done tying it, I glance in the mirror. This top outlines every curve. My boobs are completely outlined. Anyone can see the type of nipples I have. Small and supple.

“My boobs are small.”

“Yeah, but they’re perfect. You have a good handful.”

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