1982: Maneater (Love in the 80s #3) by Cambria Hebert

Author:Cambria Hebert [Hebert, Cambria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01C9FDI8Y
Publisher: WaWa Productions
Published: 2016-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

Bombdigity – A way to say you really like something. Its like saying Bomb, but on steroids.

I never cared about any of this stuff.

I didn’t want to be part of the in-crowd, or go to parties. That stuff was here today and gone tomorrow. It didn’t last, so really, what did it matter?

Then Kelly knocked on my bedroom door.

Just seeing her standing there opened the floodgates for feelings I wasn’t accustomed to.

Frustrated.

Angry.

Jealous.

It wasn’t surprising that she looked beautiful. Kelly was the prettiest girl in the entire school. Honestly, she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

Tonight her hair was pulled up into some kind of side ponytail, high on her head. The bangs at the front were teased up like all the girls wore and the scrunchie holding the hair in place around her ponytail was black, a direct contrast to her blond hair.

The make-up she wore looked like it usually did, not too much but enough to enhance her face, especially her blue eyes. But tonight her lips weren’t pink like they usually were. They were red. Bold, bright red that coated the fullness of her lips and made me remember exactly what it had been like to kiss her.

She was wearing a body hugging black skirt and a wide leopard print belt with a huge buckle in the center. The black shirt had sleeves, but was off the shoulders. The shirt, coupled with her pulled up hair, left a lot of skin to the eye.

For the first time ever, I wanted to be part of the in-crowd.

For the first time ever, jealousy spewed up the back of my throat like the cafeteria ladies’ mystery lunches.

“What are you wearing?” she gasped looking at me.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

The surprised look I was starting to get used to seeing on her face appeared. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It shows too much skin,” I blurted out.

She made a face. “It’s the style.”

“I don’t like it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “Well your outfit looks… stupid!”

I lifted an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Shut up,” she snapped. Her hand pressed against my chest and she walked forward, shoving me back into my room.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“If you want to make them actually think you are going out with me and my friends then you have to dress like it.”

“I go out like this all the time,” I said, looking down at my pants and plain t-shirt.

“Exactly,” she muttered, like that was some kind of argument.

“Where’s all your clothes?” she asked, going through all the empty drawers in the dresser. Like I’d bother to unpack. We were going home soon.

“In my bags over there.”

She went over and started going through all my stuff.

“Sure, help yourself,” I remarked dryly.

“You need help,” she retorted.

I admit, I didn’t argue as much as I usually would because she was bent over my things and giving me a really nice view of her ass.

That skirt hugged all the right places.

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