Page 7 of Then Came You

Nothing says second best quite like being dropped for your friend.

Apparently, I wasn’t ‘normal’ for wanting to get piercings or tattoos.’ So as a big fuck you after my break up, I didn’t waste a second in doing what I wanted to my own body.

Working in Newtown means all the best parlours are open late, so one night on a whim I decided to just go for it. My breasts are large enough that no one would know it's there unless I was naked, and what you can see on my sternum can be covered easily by a bra.

I was easily persuaded by the resident body piercer that my nipples were ‘dream nipples’ and they’d look even better decorated. It didn’t take much convincing to get two barbells when she whispered it would increase my sensitivity and heighten my orgasm. Unfortunately for me, it takes a lot for me to climax, and even more unfortunate, no guy has ever…you know…gotten me there.

Although, something tells me Blade would be able to get me off good and proper.

I continue to daydream about the charismatic man that captured my attention.

I’ve been tossing up whether to share with Cindy my encounter with the downright lickable man, who bought me breakfast this morning. I told Xan about the brief encounter, who said he was proud of me getting myself back out there, but I’m still confused if I imagined a spark between Blade and me, or if I mistook his kindness for flirting. In my mind, there’s no logical reason why he would flirt with me, so I really need a girl's opinion.

I’ll definitely tell my little sister, but by the time I get home, she’ll be asleep, so that leaves Cindy, who at the end of the day I do consider a friend, even if she makes me feel inferior around her sometimes.

Before I can chicken out, I just go for it.

“A guy bought me coffee this morning. An extremely sexy, distinguished, confident man,” I blurt, watching for her reaction in the mirror, but she doesn’t react. Given her face is frozen and plastic fantastic, I can't even tell her expression. “Did you hear me?” I squeak, tugging on her hair so she feels it at the root.

“Ouch.” She swats my hand away. “I heard you, I heard you. I need more information.” It’s a clinical response. I brush it off and continue.

“So, I was in line, and when it was my turn, I dropped my wallet, and my coins went everywhere, and he offered to pay for my coffee,” I rush out in one big breath.

“And then what?”

Is she waiting for the other shoe to drop or something?

There’s no other shoe.

This Cinderella only has one shoe and that’s it.

“Then nothing. Oh no, wait, he bought me toast too.” I remember clicking my fingers.

“Why?”

“Why?” I mimic back, perplexed, sectioning off more bits of her hair and twisting them through the GHD.

“Yeah, why did he buy you breakfast?”

"Um, because he asked me what I’d like to eat?" It comes out as more of a question, and now I’m second-guessing myself.

Was he just pitying me?

"Okay. How did it end?" She’s flipping through a magazine, only half paying attention, like she’s entertaining me.

"No, no, no. There was so much more. We spoke about his job and my job, and he called me a Bratz doll because of my hair." At this, she bursts out laughing and throws the magazine on her lap. Now, I feel even more stupid. "I swear there was a connection," I insist. I feel myself shrink back into myself, especially when I remember he compared me to a plastic child’s toy.

It’s times like this where I can’t help but feel she always slightly belittles me and looks down on me because I’m not from her social class. Sometimes I feel like her little pet or project.

There’s never anything concrete that she does that I could call her out on, like right now, for instance, but there’s an undertone of condescension.

I guess maybe sometimes she diminishes my light so she can shine brighter?

I’ve never felt more irritated than I do at this moment.

Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be your cheerleaders?

"Sweetie, guys buy me coffee all the time." See. There. That. What she just said. She’s trying to lessen my interaction with Blade.

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