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Plus-Sized Perfection

Page 11

by Sam Crescent


  She stared at her friend. “You know I don’t want to be working on numbers.”

  “I know. You want to be bringing two lost souls together in a romantic, and somewhat steamy journey. You’ve always written. I get that.”

  “But it’s not always a guaranteed career choice.”

  “It’s really not. The market is really tough. You know that, sweetie. I just, I don’t want you to be sucked down by all that negativity, you know.”

  “I’m not negative. I’m optimistic.”

  “Well, you can still write that cookbook you always said you wanted to, or you can go into porn.”

  “Please, plus size porn?”

  “Why not? You’ve got a smoking bod,” Freya said, giggling.

  “I have jiggly bits, and I think to be a porn star you’ve got to, you know, have sex.” She sat up, pulling out of her ponytail, and gathering the things she would need to go and take a shower. It had been a really hot day, and she needed to freshen up. She stank really bad.

  “You’ve got to give some guys a chance,” Freya said.

  “Kind of hard to do when you discover that they were marking each other for points on who to bang. Did you know if they bagged a virgin and recorded it as proof, they got a thousand dollars?” Sophia said. “Guys are idiots, morons, and losers.” From the moment she had seen that notebook in freshman year, she had been sworn off every single guy on campus. She didn’t care who they were or what their parents did, she turned everyone down.

  It still made her shudder to see that if they bagged her, it would be extra points. Gross.

  Freya laughed. “They’re not all bad.”

  “You’re talking about Greg.”

  “Yep, I am. He’s being really sweet, which I have to say makes me nervous.”

  “How come?” Sophia asked.

  “Mom told me that if a guy ignores you for a period of time, and then all of a sudden starts with the compliments, and buying me gifts, then it means he’s probably cheated, or done something he’s not proud of.”

  Sophia winced. If anyone would see the signs of cheating it was Freya’s mom. Her best friend’s parent hadn’t done well in the guy department. Four marriages, all ending in divorce via adultery. Not pretty, and Sophia had once seen one of the explosions.

  One night they had gone to get ice cream after school, only the shop had been shut. They had gone to the store instead, returning home within minutes. There on the couch, Freya’s stepdad had been banging the neighbor, and at fourteen, she had seen all the goriness.

  She had gone home with Freya while the explosion went on.

  Her view of men hadn’t improved at all.

  Freya, however, was a hopeless romantic, who was determined to see the good in everyone and everything.

  “Why don’t you ask?”

  “He’ll lie.”

  “You’ll have to find out some way.” She stood up. “I’m going to take a shower. I think I smell like a dog.”

  Freya chuckled. “Just a little bit.” She got to the door before she was stopped. “What are you going to do about Brown? One little interview wouldn’t hurt, right?”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she glanced back at her friend. “I guess one interview won’t hurt, but I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right. When they call again if I’m not here, arrange an interview, and I will go for you.” She blew her friend a kiss, and left to go and take a shower.

  “Excellent, I made one for you next week.”

  College was coming to an end, and life was changing. Freya already had a job lined up for some kind of advertising agency that meant she could put her art into some real action. For Sophia, she didn’t know what she wanted. Freya always had a plan, always knew what she wanted.

  Sophia had never been able to settle, always struggling with making that final leap. She loved writing, always had. When she had been in the library studying for lengths of time, she found herself typing away at a new story.

  Mr. Coleman had been really nice in directing her toward a company where her skills would be useful, even though she didn’t want to work for a large organization or enterprise, or company.

  Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and all of her tutors had warned her about this. If she didn’t make decisions herself, then others would make them for her. How could she decide what she wanted to do for the rest of her life?

  End of sample chapter

  Addicted to Her by Sam Crescent is available at most online retailers.

  www.evernightpublishing.com/addicted-to-her-by-sam-crescent

 

 

 


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