writing scribbles

Jan 22, 2007 11:48

Just a short piece from an untitled piece that I probably will not finish, but liked enough to write. Kinda funny, I thought.

The first time I met Stella McCarthy we were both wearing roller skates. I don’t think I would ever have noticed her if she hadn’t skidded to a halt in front of me, pointed to my skates, and demanded we switch because my black and green skates were so much cooler than hers and she just had to wear them. Being the awkward thirteen year old that I was, I had just blinked and stared at her with my mouth agape like a fish. I mean, what kind of person goes up to a complete stranger and asks to switch roller skates?

Also being the pushover that I was, I finally regained my senses (this is under debate, actually) and untied my skates. She grinned at me and tossed hers at my feet, scrambling over to a bench so she could put mine on. We spent the rest of the night together and I never did get my roller skates back.

But that’s the kind of person Stella was, and still is. Random, blunt, and completely without shame.

“Stella, would you put some clothes on?” I didn’t bother turning around when I heard the bathroom door open, I already knew. Stella McCarthy refused to invest in towels because she preferred to ‘air dry.’ Her words, not mine.

“Not dry yet, sweeting,” she sang, ruffling through her dresser near the doorway, throwing outfits she was considering in a heap on her unmade bed. A moment later the closet door opened and more clothes were thrown in the general direction of the bed, most ending up on the floor. “Alex is picking me up tonight for dinner. Whore it up or go casual?”

I tried not to laugh. “Isn’t it just for dinner?”

“Whore it up then.” Stella began humming to herself and I turned enough to see her standing in front of the mirror wearing only a black thong and black and pink thigh-high socks. She saw me looking and touched her lip with her finger. “Too much?” she asked innocently, batting her lashes.

See what I mean? Completely shameless.

Ignoring her question, I turned all the way around in my chair and settled the novel I was reading for a class in my lap. “It’s just dinner, Stella.”

Stella rolled her eyes at me through the mirror as she pulled on a black mini skirt and riffled through the pile on the floor to find her chain belt. “Amy, this is Alex. Alex only asks a girl out to dinner if he thinks he can have her for dessert.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Prude.”

“Whore.”

Stella didn’t bother denying it and simply grinned and stuck her tongue out at me - which I noticed was now pierced - before she went back to searching through her clothes for a suitable outfit. “You want him tomorrow?”

I glared at her and she laughed. "Right, stupid question, of course not."

Yup. Thoughts?

scribbles, original

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