Page 104 of One More Kiss

Love Me Anyway

Lesley Hoover

Gen

Wakingup beside my best friend Margot is a commonality since being at her house is more likely than being at mine. To the point where I even helped her decorate her room growing up, so it’s the perfect blend of both of us.

Some might find this weird, and many did, especially in the drama of high school. The normal bullies would catcall, referring to us as “the lesbos”, but she’s truly just my best friend. She’s like the sister I never had and never dared wish for. I wouldn’t want to subject another child to the absentee alcoholic parent lifestyle.

I was five when we met, Margot determined when she saw me walking home alone that we would be best friends and left no room for argument. I’d been crying my eyes out after my mom failed to show up yet again to get me from school.

Her family quickly figured out my mom’s extended stays with ‘friends’ were simply benders and couldn’t stand by, me being alone eating microwaved noodles and sleeping on a stained mattress. The Tiernan’s practically adopted me when my mom was gone, I’d pack a few essentials to come stay with them and by that point I had a drawer in Margot’s dresser just for the clothes they got me since mine were so raggedy.

Margot’s older brother Asher, would babysit us after school for some movie money. He’d put on some redbox movie for us and make us so much popcorn that it’d ruin our appetite for dinner, but we never told.

On nights when I’m alone with my thoughts and the day’s been long and hard, I’ll think of those times and I feel like I’m home.

“Come on Genny, that dress makes you look amazing!” Margot praises as I wiggle trying to get it to loosen up over my hips.

“Amazing? It just brings even more attention to my hips.” I glare. This was one hundred percent her idea. It’ll be fun, she said. It’s just a party, nothing big! She said. Lies...all lies.

Margot was the party animal, the outgoing shining light, outspoken, hot mess that everyone adored.

I’m just the mess her family took pity on...

“It’s an hourglass figure, one that I would kill for. Genevieve, I swear if you take that off, I will bury you in the backyard.” She threatens when I try to slide the zipper down. The dress in question is beautiful, I just don’t think it is on me. It’s a satin drawstring Cami dress in red because it makes my eyes pop and looks incredible with my complexion. Margot said. Whatever that means.

Whether I feel comfortable or not is irrelevant, I know arguing is futile. Margot is very headstrong especially when it comes to me and trying to pull me out of my comfortable little bubble. She ruffles through her closet and finds me a pair of black pumps that just look plain painful.

She styled my currently purple hair in long waves down my back and put on a surprisingly minimal amount of makeup with just eyeshadow, mascara and a nude lip gloss.

“Did you see that meme going around on Instagram?” She asks as she searches through the duffle sized makeup bag.

“That narrows it down, which one?” I laugh.

“The one about the nude lipstick color!”

“No,” I giggle as she looks at me expectantly.

“Well, rumor has it,” she begins as she glides the crimson lip coloring across her mouth. “That your perfect nude color is the exact shade of your nipples.”

Laughing until I have a cramp in my side, I gasp for air realizing she’s dead serious. “Your nipples?” I ask.

“Yes, your nipples. The meme goes ‘what are you supposed to do, whip out a titty in the middle of Ulta?’ I’m just saying, we’re going to have to test that theory.” Horrified is the way I imagine the look on my face right now. I mean who thinks of this shit?

It definitely had to be a guy that came up with that.

“We are so not doing that!” I say my eyes wide.

“We’ll see!” She sings as she walks out the bedroom turning down the hall. I follow behind, groaning and pulling at the fabric clinging to my skin. Turning the corner to the kitchen, I see Margot talking to Asher begging him to be our ride back home.

“Margot, he’s already agreed to be our ride there. I’m sure he won’t want to be tied to us all night.” I say approaching the other side of the island with their backs to me. With Asher being only three years older than us at twenty-five, I can’t help but think about how he doesn’t look like the other guys. His body is toned and lean, his jeans hug his hips and thighs and shirt his shoulders. I blush turning away scolding myself for my thought process.

“He shouldn’t be spending his time with floozies anyway,” she elbows him in the ribs. Rubbing his side with a smirk, he turns, and I can feel the heat from his gaze as he looks me down and then up again, even though I know he only views me as his sister’s best friend.

His mouth thinning in a hard line, “I was thinking of coming back early anyway. It’s no problem.”

Asher

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