12 - Vent

12 - Vent

Summer

I slumped on the couch, which was also my bed-slash-desk. It was multipurpose, and I was glad it had lasted me for over two years even though I thrifted it for less than forty dollars.

My feet ached from wearing heels all night, and I tried to rub away the soreness. The event to improve my name and drown out the rumors was successful with little to no accidents.

Except that jerk getting mad over a tiny spill.

But I gotta admit, even though he was a huge grump, his thighs were strong. I remembered the dark gleam in his eyes when I was trying to help him pat it dry. He was definitely a weirdo for getting angry at me. Even when I suggested having it dry cleaned.&nb