Lipstick Answers

1.
I brushed my teeth, sleepily, & rinsed my mouth. I put the brush back in its place, & splashed water on my face & forced my eyes open.
****. Another pimple had developed over night on my forehead. I rubbed the spot, making the pimple red.
Shuddering with the scary thought of the pimple, I left the bathroom, & headed up to my room. I went into my closet, & brought out my outfit of the day: a white semi-transparent cotton shirt, & a pair of black skinny jeans.
I matched it with red lipstick, & eyeliner & long lash mascara. My black bra showed through my lacy white shirt. Perfect! That should get all the hot guys’ attentions.
I went down to breakfast, after finishing the look with a purple Gucci tote. I tossed it on the sofa, & sat down at the dining table, where my step mother, Janice, was buttering a toast. She eyed me disdainfully.
“What are you wearing, Sarah”?” she asked, pointing the butter knife at me.
I looked down at myself. “What’s wrong with it?”
She looked at me as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the whole world. “Your black bra is showing through your white shirt!” she pointed out. “Can you please sober up a bit?”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Janice!” I said. “Get with it. This is in the vogue right now.”
Janice took a deep breath. Then she said, “I wish you would stop dressing like a total skank.” The last part came out as a whisper, but I caught it with my sharp ears, anyway.
“And I wish you would stop butting in my life, & keep out.” I tried to keep the words sugar coated, of course, but it was simply impossible to keep the hatred for her off my voice.
She was worse than an evil stepmother you read about in fairy tales. Because she was not exactly evil. She was somewhat annoying, & would never stop advising me about the way I dress. And I could never eat breakfast in peace until I dressed like Virgin Mary.
“You need to listen to Janice,” said my dad.
Did I mention the part where my dad butts in? The only solution now is that I carry my bowl of cereal to the backyard & eat in the company of our dim witted Labrador, Dolce, whom I really have a hard time to keep away from sniffing my bowl. I have to scream really loud at him before he would back off.
Then I picked up the bowl & headed off the backyard as per my usual routine. Kirsten & Mark, my eight year old step siblings were arguing, or rather screaming, about the channel dad had tuned the TV to. Mark yelled in my ear, “HBO!”
“Back off!” I snarled, & exited the room for some peace of mind.
I sat down on the porch steps, & ate my cornflakes. When I was finished, I dumped the bowl in the kitchen sink for the maid to clean it later on.
Then I grabbed my tote & twenty five dollars of allowance of the day. I took my red Mercedes Benz SL-Class keys & went into the garage. The four cars stood in a line.
I got into my Merc, & revved. I nearly hit the lamp post near the house, but I seldom cared, as this is the way I always drive, & have been driving for three years now. Until now, the lamp post has not suffered any kind of injury at all.
I drove to my school – St. Stephen’s Academy. I got a parking spot, & parked my car there.
I hoisted the tote on my shoulder, & walked up the huge stone steps. The school was one of the best in the whole of Miami.
I went over to my locker. The next locker to mine belonged to my best friend, Jessica Masterson. She was there, reading something.
I sneaked over to her, & said in her ear, “Boo!”
As usual, she just gave me her bored look, & told me to stop yelling every time I saw her, because it did not affect her at all.
“What are you reading?” I snatched the paper out of her hands. It was covered in pink little hearts. Sick, I tell you.
Jessica was a lesbian. But thankfully, she never, ever tried anything sexual with me, though I doubt she does not have any feelings about me. Yuck! She knew I was totally heterosexual.
“Ooh!” I teased her. “Love letter!”
The letter was from Sophia Burton, another notorious lesbo. I handed back it back to Jess. I could not read it much, on account the writing was overlapped with pink crayon.
“Thrilling, isn’t it?” Jess said dryly. “God, it was just one kiss. She wants to sleep with me already! Can you please explain me why? She’s not even very good looking!”
I don’t understand the chemistry between homosexuals, so I was the last person to know the reason why Sophia wanted to **** my best friend. Go ask a homosexual, I wanted to say.
“I am throwing a sleepover,” she said, tearing the letter. “It’s on for tonight. Lots of girls. You’re on the top of my list, of course. Don’t worry, most of the girls have their own boyfriends.”
I laughed. “I’ll come – even if it was an all lesbo party. But would have just made it sure that I would be sleeping in another room, of course.”
“So, see ya tonight,” Jess said. “And wear those pink pyjamas, please! I love them.”

Tags: Able, Make, Opinion, Story, Think, What, Will, Writer