Chapter 1
I am not the girl that boys want to date.
I am the girl who is fun to hang out with for a week until he finds someone better.
I am the girl that a boy will text nonstop, but will ditch when it comes time to hang out.
I am the girl who will give a guy everything, but is not good enough to meet his family.
I am the girl who gets the “you up?” text, but never the good morning text.
I am the girl who’s fun to go out and drink with at night, but is never good enough to take to breakfast.
It’s never really bothered me that no guy has taken much interest in me. I’ve always been too busy trying to be the perfect child for my mom. I stayed out of trouble, earned straight A’s, and avoided teen pregnancy. Then, I went to college because that’s what everyone’s supposed to do, right?
I was raised by a single mom who got pregnant with me at such a young age, and I think that’s why I stayed out of trouble. My mom already struggled enough; I wasn’t going to make life harder than it already had been for her.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a saint by any means. In high school, I would occasionally go to parties, drink with my friends, and tried talking to guys... but they always seemed more interested in my friends. I only had one brief relationship in high school, and I eventually lost my virginity to him. The relationship was… fine. The sex? Unmemorable. I ended it because I couldn’t see the point in dating a guy that I could never see a future with.
In college, I met my best friend. It was my first day of freshman year. I was sitting alone in my psychology class when in walked this bubbly blonde who turned heads the second she entered the room. For some reason, she chose the seat next to me.
Of course, being my annoyingly shy self, I didn’t say a word. She asked if I had an extra pen. I handed her the one I was using. She gave me this beautiful smile and said, “Hi, I’m Olivia. You’re a freaking lifesaver.”
At the end of the class, she got up and asked if I wanted to grab something to eat. I agreed, and from that moment on, we were inseparable. I would of never guessed that Olivia and I would become best friends since we are complete opposites.
Maybe because opposites attract, or however that saying goes.
And when I say we are opposites, I mean in every way possible. From the way we look to our love lives. Liv is the kind of girl who never sticks with one guy for too long. She loves the attention that boys give her, and trust me, she doesn’t have to try. She always takes what she wants out of life, especially men. I can’t even talk to a guy that I like without him eventually asking about Olivia.
And honestly, I can’t blame them. She’s beautiful on the inside and out.
She’s the kind of girl I wish I were more like. Olivia pushes me to do new things that I would normally never do, and I try to tame the spitfire that she is. We somehow balance each other.
“Brinley, get your ass up!” Olivia yells, bursting into the room.
I groan and pull my blanket over my head, hoping she’ll disappear. She rips the blanket off my bed.
“Get ready now. We're going out tonight. There is a motocross race, and you know what that means... hot ass boys everywhere.”
I stare up at the ceiling, refusing to look at her. I know as soon as I do, she’ll give me those damn puppy dog eyes and I won’t stand a chance. I’m not in the mood to watch guys throw themselves at her all night while I just stand there awkwardly.
Most nights always end the same. Olivia’s lips are locked with a gorgeous guy and I’m sitting there with a drink in my hand, alone. Liv has good intentions; she tries to be a wing woman for me and help me scope out boys, but that’s just not who I am. I would rather be in my bed watching Netflix and eating pizza by myself.
“C’mon,” she drags out, pouting. “You need to live a little and quit being so scared.”
“No, don’t make me,” I whine, already knowing I’m not going to win this fight.
“You’re coming. I'm sick of you lying around, expecting life to happen to you. You know what you need...” She pauses while looking at me as if I’m going to answer.
“TO GET LAID. You’re so uptight,” she says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes.
“It’s not a choice. You’re going.” She turns and walks away, the door slamming shut behind her.
Sometimes I regret deciding to live with Liv. She’s always dragging me out and trying to set me up with some guy. We’ve lived together for the last four years. We did the college thing together for a year and she helped me become the woman I am today. She helped me break out of my shell and by the end of our year together, we were never apart for longer than a day.
By the end of freshman year, we moved in together. It was a hard time in my life because I was depressed and couldn’t stand being in school anymore because I wasn't happy with the path I was currently on.
With Liv’s encouragement and help, I finally told my mom I was dropping out of college to become a makeup artist.
Let’s just say… she did not take it well.
She told me she was afraid I’d end up relying on a man since I wouldn’t have a degree. She kept going on and on about how being a makeup artist was a risky job, how it doesn’t pay enough, and how I’d meet someone who makes more and end up being dependent on them. My mom doesn’t trust men. Probably because of my dad, but she’s never given me the full story.
All I know is that he’s never been in my life, and I think that broke her. It made her a little colder when it comes to my decisions.
The little bit of info I could pull out of my mom is that she met my dad at a party during her senior year of high school. It was one drunken night. That’s all it took. She got pregnant and never saw him again. She never got the chance to tell him.
Even though I didn’t have a dad in my life, I had a badass mom who played both roles. I had an amazing, happy childhood like any other child. Maybe even better than most.
Eventually, after lots of tears, she came around. The only condition? No getting tied down. No boyfriend. No babies. At least, not until I was financially stable on my own.
Ha. Like I could get tied down. A guy would actually have to like me back first.
Anyway, I immediately landed a job doing makeup at a cute salon. After two years of working there, I built enough clientele to quit and work for myself as a freelance makeup artist. I make enough to live comfortably, and my business is slowly getting bigger by the day.
“You almost ready?” Olivia yells, breaking me away from my thoughts.
I grab my favorite pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved crop shirt. I pair it with my black and white Vans. Simple but cute.
“I need you to do my makeup for me!” Olivia yells from outside my room.
When she walks in, she is wearing tight jean shorts and I mean short, as in I can see the bottom of her ass short. She paired it with a black tank top that shows off her tits and a black and blue flannel thrown over it.
“Sit down and let me do your makeup,” I tell Olivia. Twenty minutes later, we’re ready.
“You’re driving. My ass is drinking tonight while you’re off riding the riders,” I tease.
She looks at me and smiles. “Let’s get drunk and have a good time. Maybe a make-out sesh here or there. Nothing too wild. Tonight is your night, I can feel it.”
I roll my eyes and toss her the keys.
