SNACKTACULAR

745 Words
Sometimes, it's nice to just relax. Forget all your worries, bills and completely psychotic ex-boyfriends and just relax. Eyes closed, inhaling the intoxicating smell of coffee and fresh pastries while enjoying the feel of the suns rays on your skin and the peaceful spring- "Holy s**t. He. Is. Sexy." "T!" I gasped, lightly swatting his bicep, "You are in a relationship, need I remind you?" "You already did, bitch." mumbled my best friend Terrance Salvawhore, its actually Salvatore but you can probably guess why the name caught on. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, besides I'm just looking Nessa." "You have a point T," I sighed, "He really is attractive." I mumbled, eyeing the huge, and very attractive, chocolate man that passed by. "Well, while I am thankful for you gracing me with your presence my lady, I have an award winning bakery to run." Terrance, in a horribly attempted British accent I might add, said while standing up brushing invisible dust off his his neon green apron. It was a comical sight really. A blue eyed, 6.4' ginger, of muscular build with biceps the size of my freaking head covered by tattoos, sporting a bright neon green apron. Now imagine him icing cupcakes, epitome of irresistible. "Alright T, I better head home. Bye beautiful." I teased standing up and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Aww shucks Nessa, yer' sure know how'da make a feller' blush." Terrance, once again with the accents, mumbled, wringing his hands together while lightly kicking the sidewalk with the toe of his converse, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from me. "You are just too cute. Later redneck!" I threw over my shoulder . "Later Nesse!" Terrence and I were really quite the pair. We met back in high school when he scared off some stupid jocks that made it their duty to bully me on a daily basis. I couldn't blame them though, I was a mess. I was lanky as a teenager, no more than skin and bones with dull blonde hair, and muddy brown eyes hidden behind giant thick-rimmed glasses. I giggled thinking about how much I'd love to see those fuckers now, especially after my complete transformation after graduating high school. My once dull hair was dyed a rich auburn, that looked completely natural. My eyes, once the dull muddy brown that I'd hated, was now brighter and shined with mirth. Because of Terrence's amazing cooking, I gained a few pounds in all the right places filling out into an almost perfect hourglass figure and kept toned and firm visiting the gym almost daily with once again, Terrence. So basically, I went from a hot mess to a hot motherfucker. I even seemed to have the ladies lining up, as flattering as it is, I don't bat for that team. Rounding the corner to my apartment I froze. Instantly recognizing the damned matted-black Chrysler parked in front of my building. Breathe Nessa, what if its not her. It can't be. I thought trying to calm myself, It's not her! Who am I kidding? Even I didn't believe me. That was in fact my moms car. As if noticing my realization, the driver's door opened revealing my moms driver Albert, who, for whatever reason, hates my bloody guts. Clearly somebody stocks up on hater-aid. He strode over to the back doors briskly opening it, revealing the wretched, heartless beast from hell herself, my mother. I hadn't seen that t**t since she left my dad, siblings and I for her stupid rich, British boyfriend, Harry. I'd hoped she'd stay far, far, away from me, but no luck I guess. Watching her saunter towards me, looking all prim and proper, in her pale pink chiffon blouse, matching pencil skirt and nude heels, eyeing me with disapproval at my casual attire consisting a slightly revealing top ending just at my navel, shorts and a pair of tattered converse, clearly etched onto her caked face, almost immediately infuriating me. "Why are you here mother?" I finally spoke through gritted teeth. Spitting out that last word with all the venom I could muster. "Why I'm her to visit my daught-" "I. AM. NOT. YOUR. DAUGHTER. LIZ!" Was that hurt I saw flash in her eyes? Well too damn bad I don't give a flying flock of parrots. She sighed pursing her pink lips a serious look taking over her features, aging her right before me "We need to talk."
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