I Fight Dirty

I waited. And waited and waited. It seemed like I spent more time waiting than I did actually enjoying myself.

It was a breezy fall day, the cool air twisting through my hair and tangling it into unmanageable knots as I crossed my arms tightly over my chest in attempt to keep the warmth from escaping my body much like it was quickly doing with my bare arms. Why I’d chosen to wear to wear a thin tank top and shorts on a day like this was beyond me.

The line was long, much too long, winding all the way out the door and almost to the parking lot with people of all sorts, but locals mostly. I couldn’t deny that I lived for nights like these, but I absolutely hated waiting.

It was at a place like this that I completely forgot who I was. I liked to dance here, drink here and lose myself totally, right here. And although some might beg to differ, I wasn’t a band slut. Actually, I didn’t go near those boys. They were nothing but bad news.

My sister, on the other hand, thought otherwise…

Oh my god, I’m such a terrible mess…

//

There was nothing wholesome about a place like this.

The venue was broken down and corded with questionable people, tongues dripping with alcohol and smoke as they packed the small building. I suppose I was no exception but at least I could claim to living a life quite different from this; to be honest, I was considerably normal.

I led the life of a typical American teenager: acceptable grades, good friends, a pretty face and an uncertain future. I didn’t know where my life was headed nor did I care quite honestly, but I knew that I could maintain a basic enough track to succeed later on. I had all the tools necessary to be the most average working woman but here, in a place like this, you would never know.

Here, I was Chastity Owens, vixen of the night, known for the way I worked with my older sister to manipulate any soul in the room. Or so I’d like to say.

The identity of Cassadie Carson was left at the door along with her insecurities and good judgment as I submersed myself in the sights and sounds of the night open to anything that might come my way.

“Excuse me, miss.” A shaggy haired boy murmured as he touched my bare shoulder and moved himself around me and through the crowd.

“Where to so quick?” I questioned him, taking hold of the hand that lightly gripped me and tugging backwards on it.

His expression was surprised at first but quickly turned excited as his eyes scanned the warm skin of my legs and arms. “Nowhere now.” He answered, sliding his hand onto my side.

“Dance with me, baby.” I instructed moving my body towards his to the beat of the music. I danced around him, allowing his hands to trail all over my body as they wished as I moved gracefully amongst the other people in the crowd.

I wasn’t a slut, I wasn’t a whore, I just like to dance.

Ten minutes, three songs and millions of heated breaths later and I stopped dancing abruptly and faced the boy beside me, “You want a drink honey?” he asked me, motioning towards the bar, his intentions clear in his innocent eyes.

“If you would.” I panted, watching as the boy left my side and traveled through the crowd. When he returned, I wouldn’t be here. I yawned, shoving my hand into my pocket for my phone.

Kailee:
I’ve got mine.

The text from my sister was simple enough but let me know that she was done for the night and most likely wouldn’t be seeing her until we met up later.

I’m wasted, wasting time…