Page 52 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
She gave me a sly grin. “It never is.”
I rolled my eyes at her innuendo.
When Rachel wasn’t talking about how certain guys were evil, she was talking about the guys she had random hookups with. Or ones she wanted to hook up with or dreamed about hooking up with.
Basically, if he were a guy with a working penis who was semi-good-looking, Rachel would talk about him. She even thought that Issac was hot, which I could kind of see. He was good-looking, but his personality seriously sucked.
Rachel did mention a couple of girls, but I’d zoned out by that point and only caught a fraction of what was said. Someone named Mindy had a boob job, and someone else was a bitch. I don’t know why or what she did, but according to Rachel, friends hated certain people together. So, now I had a grudge against some girl I didn’t know.
I really missed the days when it was just me and my rocks. Those were simpler times when I could stretch alone in my kitchen without unwanted visitors.
“If you want someone to talk to your vagina, I know the perfect person…”
Don’t say it.
“Kash is a bit of a vagina whisperer.”
And she said it.
“He does this thing with his…”
“Nope.” I cut her off and snapped upright before she went into more detail or decided to give me another lecture on masturbation skills. There were some things I wished I could scrub from my brain. How Rachel got herself off was now at the top of that list.
“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun.”
Exactly. I was boring. So, why was she here?
Eyeing Rachel, I briefly considered telling her to go away, but knew from experience that wouldn’t work. Her friendship was like ordering a meal you thought you wanted, only to hate it when you got it, yet still felt obligated to eat anyway.
Sucking in a tsk, I ran my eyes over her tight black pants that weren’t at all suited for running, and accepted my fate. Like it or not, I had an exercise partner today. Tomorrow, however, I was getting up thirty minutes earlier.
Well, if we were going to do this, then we had better get started. I had an hour and a half before my first class, and a bag to retrieve.
“Alright.” I clapped my hands. “Let’s go running.”
Maybe I’d get lucky and she’d tire out halfway through.
When I took a step towards the door, Rachel’s brow lifted. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah?” Suddenly doubting myself, I looked down at my pink leggings. “What’s wrong with it?”
Sweatshirt, leggings, and sneakers were proper running gear. I didn’t think I was missing anything. Was I?
“Your pants are pink.”
I didn’t realize color mattered when one was exercising.
“And are those legwarmers?”
“Yes. It’s chilly out.” It was fall. The temperature was dropping.
Rachel placed her hand on her cocked hip. “They’re green.”
“Okay?” Was green a problem? Did it go against this mysterious girl code I knew nothing about?
“You look like you’re getting ready to run in the eighties.” She explained. “All you’re missing is the headband.”
“Oh.” That’s what I forgot. “I have a headband…”
