Tempted
of Tempted
Girls always claimed that boys are the ones that do the damage in relationships – that it was always the boys that stomped on their unsuspecting, tender hearts. I could go on WeHeartIt and easily find a slogan stating something along the lines of, “She’s broken, he’s okay” almost as easily as I could find tubs of strange comfort foods in our house after my mother’s date nights.
I felt differently about the matter though.
Probably because I’d been friends with Arianna Fischer for years and I’d witnessed her breaking boys down since she’d magically grown c-cup sized breasts and her hips widened the summer before eighth grade.
There was no denying that my best friend was a bit promiscuous and leaning more toward becoming a man-eater than she was anything else in her short life. My mother and her mother liked to call her a restless spirit, but both Arianna and I knew it was much simpler than that. Arianna liked boys, and when she saw something – or someone – she liked, she went for it - even if it meant having to recycle boys that had been trailing after her longer than what they’d actually hung out.
But despite the way she sounded, Arianna Fischer wasn’t heartless. Beneath that naïve and shallow exterior, she did care about other people’s feelings and didn’t like leaving them completely out in the cold.
No, she had me to pawn guys onto when she lost interest in them or simply didn’t want to give them the time of day.
Introducing me, Copeland Mills, Arianna Fischer’s unofficial bitch and recycle bin.
It sounded terrible, but in all honesty, I didn’t mind. I didn’t have to pretend to be in a relationship to avoid being asked out by other guys, because most of the time I was working on getting the dates that Arianna had thrown at me to end peacefully - without hatred toward either me or Arianna. And most of the time, I had enough blunt mannerisms to make the guy not even want to bother with either of us again.
Our friendship worked in an almost sick kind of way.
She got to date all of the boys she wanted without ever first handedly breaking a boy’s heart, and I never had to focus on my own boy troubles solely due to the fact that I was always fixing Arianna’s. I could put up with the kicked-puppy looks on her suitors faces throughout dinner, and the boys she’d turned desperate enough to go out with anything that had womanly parts no matter their reputation, as long as I didn’t have to deal with a love life of my own.
Everything just worked.
In the back of my mind I always knew that one day Arianna would pay for the games she played, but I never expected her punishment to be so soon or so harsh.
And her demise, as well as my own, began with a seemingly harmless boy named Jack Barakat.
I felt differently about the matter though.
Probably because I’d been friends with Arianna Fischer for years and I’d witnessed her breaking boys down since she’d magically grown c-cup sized breasts and her hips widened the summer before eighth grade.
There was no denying that my best friend was a bit promiscuous and leaning more toward becoming a man-eater than she was anything else in her short life. My mother and her mother liked to call her a restless spirit, but both Arianna and I knew it was much simpler than that. Arianna liked boys, and when she saw something – or someone – she liked, she went for it - even if it meant having to recycle boys that had been trailing after her longer than what they’d actually hung out.
But despite the way she sounded, Arianna Fischer wasn’t heartless. Beneath that naïve and shallow exterior, she did care about other people’s feelings and didn’t like leaving them completely out in the cold.
No, she had me to pawn guys onto when she lost interest in them or simply didn’t want to give them the time of day.
Introducing me, Copeland Mills, Arianna Fischer’s unofficial bitch and recycle bin.
It sounded terrible, but in all honesty, I didn’t mind. I didn’t have to pretend to be in a relationship to avoid being asked out by other guys, because most of the time I was working on getting the dates that Arianna had thrown at me to end peacefully - without hatred toward either me or Arianna. And most of the time, I had enough blunt mannerisms to make the guy not even want to bother with either of us again.
Our friendship worked in an almost sick kind of way.
She got to date all of the boys she wanted without ever first handedly breaking a boy’s heart, and I never had to focus on my own boy troubles solely due to the fact that I was always fixing Arianna’s. I could put up with the kicked-puppy looks on her suitors faces throughout dinner, and the boys she’d turned desperate enough to go out with anything that had womanly parts no matter their reputation, as long as I didn’t have to deal with a love life of my own.
Everything just worked.
In the back of my mind I always knew that one day Arianna would pay for the games she played, but I never expected her punishment to be so soon or so harsh.
And her demise, as well as my own, began with a seemingly harmless boy named Jack Barakat.
♠ ♠ ♠
This idea is up for debate. I've written the first few chapters well over a year ago, and I still like the idea, but nothing is officially planned for this. So tell me, should I keep or kill?