Why You Shouldn't Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes

by Philline Harms

  I know, I know. It sounds like I’m over exaggerating, but I’m not. Not only is it embarrassing as hell, but it’s also disgusting. Sure, you get to kiss a couple of cute guys here and there, but then come along the old geezers that probably haven’t been kissed by anyone in years or the people that just don’t know how to keep their saliva to themselves.

  Oh, and if you’re pretty, you’re lucky enough to get a whole line of people just waiting to put their grimy lips against yours.

  I’m fortunate because I was born with my mother’s long flowing blonde locks and my dad’s sea green eyes. Where I live as a natural blonde is like God’s gift or something. I wasn’t ugly or anything, quite the opposite. But my bright sea green eyes were usually hidden behind the lens of my glasses, the curves of my body covered by my baggy clothes, my hair was unkempt when I don’t feel like brushing it through. I wasn’t the type to get all dolled up.

  And the worst part about the whole kissing booth ordeals was that I was forced out of the clothes I was comfortable in and stuffed into a square neckline knee-length white summer dress that flared out at the waist. The dress wasn’t hideous, it just wasn’t my thing. It made me feel incredibly awkward. And to put the cherry on top, I was obliged to wear pale yellow heels to go along with it. The curves of my body could be seen from a mile away.

  To make sure my mother came out on top of making more money than the other women, she even tried to curl my hair. Luckily, my sister was having a hair crisis herself, so my mother just ran a comb through my hair to make it look presentable.

  So here I was, sitting on an uncomfortable stool, with the hot sun beating down my neck in this tight ass dress. Nothing could make this better, and the carnival hadn’t even started yet.

  I sat there with nothing to do but rub my dry eyes due to the contacts my mother forced me to wear and stare back at the people who stared at me as they walked by. Apparently, no one recognized me, since I was in such an unusual attire. Well, for me that is.

  “Josephine! Is that you?” I jumped in my seat at the loud shriek coming from behind me.

  I turned to see Mrs. Ramsey, with a broad smile on her face and her son standing behind her. She had her arms open, waiting for a hug. I stood up and gave her a tight squeeze.

  Susan Ramsey was the most down to earth, sweet as homemade cherry pie, mother in this whole entire country club. Others were at best stuck up and rude, but not Mrs. Ramsey. She was kind no matter what the circumstances were. Her exuberant personality and bright red hair attracted lots of attention like moths to a flame.

  For some odd reason, a kind woman like her decided to latch on to my dysfunctional family when we first moved to Cranbrook when I was at the tender age of 7. She was always around to babysit me when my parents had more important things to do than take care of their own child.

  I latched on to her just as much as she did to my family. She was my self-proclaimed godmother. Her husband was kind too; until Mrs. Ramsey found out that he was cheating with a co-worker of his.

  Their divorce was a mess, but only because it was filled with false sympathy thrown at Mrs. Ramsey. The sympathizers themselves were only thinking about sleeping with newly-divorced Mr. Ramsey. Her son, Neal, handled the divorce surprisingly well.

  Neal had become my best friend since his mother was around most of the time, she was obligated to bring him along.

  Neal wasn’t so much of a pariah as I was in our little world; he was only an outsider to the children of the country club members. He was the smartest kid I had ever known, which made him pretty badass in my book. But to everyone else, not so much. Although Neal wasn’t like any other nerds, he was very outspoken and at times, immature. He was still the guy that the lacrosse players pushed into lockers when they felt like it. He was the guy that the cheerleaders felt the need to ridicule just because he got good grades.

  But to the parents, he was the guy they wanted their children to be, which only made kids hate him even more in return.

  Since we were both outcasts in some way, we decided to stick together rather than to fend off the vicious high society alone. Now, at the age of 17, we only always had each other.

  Mrs. Ramsey and Neal were the only two other people outside my family I felt remotely comfortable around.

  “My, my. You look gorgeous, honey. Your mother did one heck of a job cleaning you up, hardly even recognized you!” Mrs. Ramsey exclaimed, giving me a once-over.

  “I’ll say.” Neal snickered from behind his mother, clearly making fun of me. I knew he was fooling around because we were practically siblings. We didn’t look at each other that way.

  And if it weren’t for the dress I was wearing, he would be screaming in pain right now. I just settled on glaring at him.

  “Neal, be polite.” Mrs. Ramsey chided her son.

  He huffed before folding his arms across his chest, wrinkling his nicely-pressed pale blue button-up polo shirt.

  “You look very pretty, Joey.”

  “Thank you, asshole,” I retorted with an awkward grin, not used to the attention.

  “Language. You look more than pretty, you look absolutely stunning. How about a twirl?” Mrs. Ramsey suggested, pointing with a circular motion.

  I groaned, staying still. Mrs. Ramsey again twirled her finger. I knew my resistance was futile.

  I turned very slowly, trying hard not to fall on my ass in these heels since we were standing on the grass. Mrs. Ramsey clapped excitedly.

  “Wonderful. God knows your mother has been trying to put you in a dress for years. Speaking of your mother, let me go and find her to congratulate her on accomplishing such a feat.”

  She tapped me lightly on the shoulder and pointedly looked at Neal as if to say ‘stay out of trouble’, and then she walked off in the fray of people milling about trying to set up the carnival.

  “You do look ever so lovely, darling,” Neal said with a heavy country drawl.

  Now that his mother was gone, I didn’t have to be so polite. I punched him square in the shoulder.

  “Ow!” Neal shouted, rubbing his shoulder. “That wasn’t very ladylike now, was it??

  “I don’t care if it was ladylike or not. I’ll kick your scrawny ass if you don’t shut it.” I smirked, knowing it was true. Neal was almost darn near a pacifist.

  “Fine, fine,” Neal said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, then he bashfully put his hands in his khaki shorts. “How much did your father give you this time?”

  My face hardened at his question. Usually, when my mother has some scheme to make me look presentable like my sister and the other daughters in the club, and I resist, my father pulls me to the side and bribes me to make my mother happy. But what about making me happy? Nope, it’s all about making sure my mother doesn’t throw a hissy fit.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love my father. He was always there when he can be; he at least tried to understand who I was, unlike my mother who only wanted to make me into what she wanted.

  “He gave me a 50,” I said, solemnly sitting back on the stool. I didn’t like when my father thought he had to bribe me to keep the peace, and 50 dollars weren’t enough compensation for what I was about to endure.

  “I’m sorry, I know how much you don’t like when he does that,” Neal said awkwardly, his right hand scratching his rusty orange hair.

  “I’m over it.” I’m really not, but I said it to appease him. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have a job of your own?”

  “This is my job. Bodyguard at your service, ma’am!” Neal shouts straightening his body and saluting.

  “What do I need a bodyguard for?”

  “In case anyone tries to get handsy…if you know what I mean. No telling what those scoundrels will try to with you being all swanky and whatnot.”

  “What can you do, strangle them with your spaghetti arms?” I stated quizzically. Neal had yet to fill out like the other guys his age who had been through puberty. He had wide shoulders, but was very scrawny. Neal wa
s about 5’8”, which was short for a guy, especially compared to the guys that went to our school. His arms had little to no muscle on them, which made him protect me laughable.

  “I’ll kick their asses. That’s what!” He flexed his arms. I laughed at his antics, knowing he will probably get pummeled if he tried to start a fight with someone.

  Sadly, my mother walked toward us as Neal cursed rather loudly. I clamped my mouth shut, sitting up straight knowing my mother will criticize my posture.

  “Neal, you really need to improve your language. That is no way for a young man to speak,” she said, putting her white Prada sunglasses through her sun-kissed blonde hair. She wore a floor-length robin’s egg blue summer dress paired with white pumps. She looked elegant even though we were at a carnival. It was so nauseating.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Montgomery,” Neal said, hanging his head in shame. She turned her nose up at him as an acceptance of his apology.

  “Now, I had Mrs. Ramsey put you two together because I know how Josephine feels about other people, but don’t take my kindness for granted,” she said with a disapproving glare.

  “For Heaven’s sakes!” My mother then exclaimed. “Josephine, would it kill you to sit up straighter? Ladies don’t slouch. Have I not taught you anything?”

  I tried to look like I was sitting up straight if it was possible.

  “Good, now the carnival is starting. People should be lining up any minute now since you look…” she paused before giving me a once-over. “Somewhat…decent.” Even after she dressed me, she still didn’t approve of how I looked. I lowered my head in response, not wanting to make eye contact.

  “I’ll leave you two to your work.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, then turned to leave, but turned back to point at me “Don’t embarrass me.”

  I nodded, not knowing what to say to her. I rarely had anything to say to my mother.

  After she left, Neal looked at me with an apologetic smile. I smiled back, already forgetting about my mother.

  “Oh! I forgot to give you something,” Neal said before frantically digging in his pocket. He found what he was looking for and stuck it out toward me.

  “What is it?” I asked before taking it, apprehensive. There was no telling what he was trying to give me.

  A wicked grin broke out on Neal’s face. “It’s a ChapStick! I think you will need it.” He was clutching his stomach now, shaking with laughter. My face heated up, embarrassed at the thought of how many people might line up to kiss me.

  It is going to be a long day.

  If you enjoyed this sample then look for Kissing Olivia Winchester

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  BAD GIRL IN DISGUISE

  Angie Wu

  “I come here to forget—to forget my problems and be myself, even if it is just for one night.”

  They say good girls always get the interesting bad boys. And the bad girls will get the boring good guys.

  Opposites attract, right?

  But that’s not the case for Jesse Marks. She is a bad girl. She defies stereotypes and breaks the rules. She owns a gigantic motorcycle and sneaks out to clubs every night.

  At school, she disguises herself as a good and nerdy student; she’s the teachers’ favorite. Nobody can know about her true personality.

  However, her facade slowly fades away when the bad boy, Lucas Johnson, arrives at the school she studies.

  Problems start to arise. Terrible pasts make their way back. Horrible decisions are made. Secrets will be unveiled.

  How will it affect Jesse’s life? How will she deal with all the obstacles coming her way?

  This young adult romance story is not for the faint-hearted. Grab a copy now!.

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  LIFE SUCKS IF YOU’RE MARRIED TO A BILLIONAIRE

  Krystel Grace

  Kei Forest, a stubborn young man, is living an ordinary college life until he receives a letter that will change his life forever.

  Recently turned twenty-one, he is now faced with a decision that will shake the very foundation of his life.

  His parents had left him an unimaginable wealth but under one condition: He must marry the arrogant business magnate, Jace Langlois.

  Will Kei put up with this ordeal? Or will he leave his husband after he gets his inheritance?

  This is an LGBT book you shouldn’t miss. Grab a copy now!

  Acknowledgements

  So, as it turns out, writing acknowledgements is almost harder than writing this entire book, which probably says a lot about me. I just have way too many feelings that I can’t really fit into words right now. I guess I’m just going to wing it because that’s what I did when I posted the first chapter of this book on this little website called Wattpad, and that didn’t turn out so bad, did it?

  First and foremost, a huge thank you to my family. To Mom and Dad, the weirdest, most loving parents I know (even though I might be a bit biased here); to Michel, the best big, little brother I could wish for; to Ylvie, the only person I know who has even more confidence than Hunter. Thank you for being warm and bright even on the hardest of days and believing in me even when I don’t believe in myself. Also, thanks for tolerating my goblin lifestyle and not forcing me to go outside. You are all awful and I love you.

  Thank you to my friends; to Lorena, Merle, Linda, Vera, Milena, Elise, and Anneke. You were right by my side for every part of this journey, from when I wrote the first chapter to now that you’re holding this book in your hands. Thank you for school breaks spent talking about this book, for listening and caring and being almost more excited than me when I told you this was going to be a thing. You’re my Nate and my Emily, and I adore each one of you.

  Thank you to the team at BLVNP for even making this possible, for seeing something in that wonky first draft and for being so lovely and encouraging that I didn’t even have to scream every time I pressed “send” on an adult e-mail to you. With anyone else, this process would have probably been really scary, but you made it exciting and fun, and I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to turn what started as a spontaneous idea in my bedroom into something that I can put on my shelf and cry a lil every time I look at it.

  Thank you to everyone else who was with me along the way and gave me encouragement and support in the tiniest of ways. To classmates who asked about the characters and weren’t annoyed when I wouldn’t stop talking, to teachers who forced me to read my stuff in front of the class and didn’t think it was terrible. To cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, and people who aren’t family but feel like they are, thanks for supporting my book obsession and for being lovely enough to support this book even though half of you probably have

  no idea what’s going on.

  Thank you to my readers on Wattpad for making my days so much brighter for more than two years now. I’m beyond grateful for each and every one of you, whether you only just found this book last month or read it when it was nowhere close to being done. I’m not sure if I would have finished it if it hadn’t been for your comments and messages. So when I say I that couldn’t have done this without you, I’m not exaggerating. You were right there during writer’s blocks and exam seasons and you always, always encouraged me to keep writing. Thanks for loving my boys just as much as I do and following them from the internet onto these pages. It means more than words can say.

  Whew, I think that was everyone! Honestly, this book probably wouldn’t exist without all of you, and for that, I love you more than Jules loves coffee. Which is a lot, in case you didn’t notice.

  Here’s to many more books with equally embarrassing, sappy acknowledgements!

  xoxo

  Author’s Note

  Hey there!

  Thank you so much for reading Why You Shouldn’t Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes! I can’t express how grateful I am for reading something that was once just a thought inside my head.

  I’d love to hear from you! Please feel free to email me at philline-harms.awesomeauthors
.org and sign up at philline_harms@awesomeauthors.org for freebies!

  One last thing: I’d love to hear your thoughts on the book. Please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads because I just love reading your comments and getting to know YOU!

  Whether that review is good or bad, I’d still love to hear it!

  Can’t wait to hear from you!

  Philline Harms

  About the Author

  Living in Germany, sixteen year-old Philline Harms is a student who spends her free time glued to her computer screen, pouring everything that her overactive imagination comes up with into Word documents. Having been raised a bookworm by her parents, she has been writing her own stories since she can remember, until she started publishing them on the e-book platform Wattpad. Besides literature she loves chocolate, seeing her friends, rainy days, rock music and learning about new things, ranging from true crime cases to astrology.