I shuddered in disbelief. As a child, Abigail had organized anti smoking campaigns to raise awareness of the danger of smoking. And now she was not only partaking, but participating willingly with some degree of enthusiasm. Most of me was consumed with worry for the safety of my child. But a small part of me experienced something else- a new and strange feeling I’d never had before. I checked her diary daily- sometimes multiple times a day hoping for any kind of update. Then one day, the new entry appeared.
Entry 4
Oct 22, 2023
Dear Diary,
I needed to clear my mind of everything that had just happened. This was not me. I do not smoke. I do not hang out with delinquents, bimbos, and right wing trolls. I do not lust after cruel, fetid lowlifes and I certainly don’t think about said lowlifes while making love to my boyfriend or intermittently throughout the week while touching myself.
I threw myself into my work like never before. I doubled my volunteer shifts at the homeless shelter, and added additional shifts working with children, animals, and people with mental disabilities.
I asked Ashley if I could help more with the Young Democrats and volunteering for Planned Parenthood.
“Abigail, in my capacity as head of Young Democrats, I would say a million times yes!! But as your best friend, I have to tell you the truth- you need a break! You are burning yourself out when you need the most energy!”
“I-I am?” I stammered.
“You are. Let’s have some girl time- just you and me, like when we were kids,”
I remembered all of the endless summer afternoons we would spend playing dolls, pretend games, making up stories and imagining our futures careers and partners. In many ways, we were right on track to make those dreams a reality.
We went to our favorite used book store at the mall, where I bought some Jane Austen novels I hadn’t read yet. I also updated my poetry collection with some Whitman. We went clothes shopping as well, and I bought a beautiful dress for my next cello recital and some elegant tops to wear to school. Ashley bought some in a style so similar that we looked like twins!
It was exactly what I needed. I felt like my old self returning again. We finished up by sharing ice cream cones together, just like we did when we were little.
“So.. how’s William?” she asked.
I sighed and looked back at her dreamily.
“He is literally my dream man. He is so good at anticipating my needs, that he often knows what I want before I do.” I gushed.
“Wow!! He’s making all the other guys look bad. I mean my Henry is attentive- but not THAT attentive!” She chuckled, shaking her head.
“Well at least Henry doesn’t have an abusive family that harasses you.” I said, rolling my eyes.
“True. I’m so so sorry that you both have to deal with that. But look at it this way, if you can just make it through the rest of the school year, once you guys move out you’ll never have to see that man again,” she encouraged.
I nodded half heartedly. “Yeah, that would be amazing.”
We spent the next two hours talking about everything under the sun, from our stresses about college applications to our favorite new books to political strategizing and theorizing around the Biden/Trump rematch.
We were really more like sisters- twins even, in some respects.
“Ashley, I don’t know what I would do without you. This week I felt like I was losing myself, but being here with you today is really grounding me,” I told her.
“Abigail, you’ve been grounding me my whole life. I’m just glad to be able to return the favor once in awhile,” she said sweetly.
“I love you Ashley,” I replied, choking back tears.
“I love you too,” she replied, and we embraced before parting ways. Aside from William, she might be my favorite person in the world!
As I walked out of the food court, I walked right past a bunch of fellow teens smoking. Usually I would walk through quickly to avoid getting even a whiff of smoke, but today I lingered a little longer. I remembered last week with Johnny, Trevor, and even Candace. How relaxed I felt, how much I’d laughed, how warm I felt inside. It felt like forever since I’d experienced those things, if I ever did at all.
I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Abby??”
At first I didn’t look, since almost no one calls me that. Then I knew immediately who it was.
“Hi Candace,” I greeted her awkwardly.
“You can call me Candy,” she said. She was dressed like a literal escort bursa prostitute, with more lacy undergarments visible than the outer clothing ostensibly covering them. By contrast, I wore casual jeans and my (aspirational) Harvard sweatshirt.
“Sure Candy. And you can call me Abigail,” I replied, somewhat saltily.
“Really, I think Abby fits you much better” she said, taking a drag on her cigarette. I felt the second hand smoke envelop and expand me, just as it did when I was smoking myself. Unconsciously, I slowly breathed it in.
“Smoke?” she offered, taking a cigarette from her pack. I looked at it with a mixture of disgust and longing, remembering how open and alive I felt last week.
My decorum rescued me. What would people think if they saw me smoking with the sluttiest girl at school?
“I’m sorry, I can’t. That was a one time thing,” I said, turning her down.
“I’m not good at math, but I think it’s been two times. Plus, Frankie loved seeing that picture of you smoking.”
I felt the mysterious but pleasurable sensation overtake me again.
“How do you know what he likes?” I inquired, feigning nonchalance.
“He tells me all the time. If only she dressed hotter.. If only she partied more.., If only she posted hot pics on Instagram.. If only she put those stupid books down and had some fun,”
I had to admit, my studying and volunteer work had been out of control this week- even by my standards. It was like I was running from something, but I didn’t know what.
“Maybe I have been a little single minded lately,” I conceded.
“You do nothing but study all the time. You’re soo boooring,” she said, exhaling her smoke directly in my face.
And you’re a dumb ho, I thought to myself, as I felt my blood starting to boil. I pushed it down. There was no reason for me to dislike her. She was actually being nice to me in her way. There was certainly no reason to be competitive with her.
“I might overdo it sometimes but I don’t think there’s anything boring about..”
She interrupted, “What you need is a serious makeover!! With some new makeup, some clothes from this century, and some hot shoes Frank is gonna start noticing you for sure.”
I felt myself perk up, then push away the thought just as quickly.
“I don’t WANT Frank to notice me! He’s nasty!!”
She laughed, “You don’t have to pretend with me, honey. It’s just us girls. Besides, I’m sure that nerd boyfriend of yours will like it too.”
She really shouldn’t talk about William like that. He might be a little dorky, but he is so sweet. And he is the love of my life. I’m sure he’d like to see a hotter version of me.
“Ok fine, we can go shopping together, but nothing over the top,” I allowed.
“Yayyy” she squealed, and hugged me, her barely concealed breasts pushing into my face.
With surprising alacrity, we zipped off to our first location- the salon. Candace seemed to know the whole staff.
“What we doin’ today Candy?” said a punkish looking girl with short purple hair and a nose ring.
“Actually, today it’s for Abby. She’s in desperate need,” Candace replied.
The punky girl looked me up and down.
“What were you thinking hun?”
“I-I I’m not really sure,” I mumbled, shyly.
Candace interrupted.
“She wants to look hot for some guy,”
I cringed. That went against just about all of my beliefs as a feminist. Of course I wanted to embrace my beauty and femininity. But it was for me, not “some guy”.
“Got it. It’s a shame. I was hoping she went the other way,” replied the stylist, whose name tag said ‘Becky’.
I blushed. My stylist was a lesbian. As a liberal, I certainly championed the cause of equal rights. As a heterosexual woman, it was just not something I thought about for myself before.
“Sorry, I..”
“Don’t worry, Abby. Frank loves seeing girls fooling around with each other. It’s actually a big turn on for him” Candace reassured.
“That’s not what I..”
“No worries, sweetie. Whenever you’re ready. What kind of look would drive this guy wild?” Becky interjected.
Again, Candace answered for me,
“He’s got a thing for blondes.”
I sulked. I always loved my long brown hair. I’d been told on multiple occasions that I bore a striking resemblance to a young Anne Hathaway.
“No way! I love my hair color! I don’t want to change it!!” I protested.
“Suit yourself. I’m just telling you what he likes,” Candace shrugged.
I bursa otele gelen escort sighed. There had to be some kind of compromise.
“Ok- maybe I can get a few blond highlights?”
Candace giggled.
“Yayyyy! That’s a start!!”
I sat down in the chair, hoping I’d made the right decision.
Becky went right to work.
“Mind if I smoke?” She asked.
Ordinarily I would have shot that down in a heartbeat, but I was so worried that she would mess up my hair that I didn’t want her mind to be elsewhere.
“Uh, okay” I said meekly.
She took a deep drag and exhaled slowly, filling the small enclosed room with smoke.
I closed my eyes and breathed it in. My body began to relax. I realized how much tension I’d been holding in all week. All the extra work I’d been doing. It was like I was trying to fill a need my body had, a craving perhaps… No, it couldn’t be that.
Becky began massaging my scalp. It felt so good. She continued to puff away. I felt all my worries and stress begin to evaporate. I thought about all the people in my life- my mom and dad who would do anything for me. My sweet little sister Allison who idealizes me. My best friend Ashley- so beautiful, inside and out. William- the love of my life who fills my soul.
She continued to smoke as she worked. My lungs eagerly accepted it. I thought about Trevor.
As he suggested, I listened to all his crazy right wing propaganda. It was like easy batting practice for my debate skills. Such ignorant, misinformed demagogues. I felt my heart rate increase.
I thought about Johnny. He was so crude and demeaning. But he had revealed some important truths about myself that I needed to wrestle with.
And then there was Candace. Why did I feel so acrimoniously towards her? I usually only felt this way if I was academically competitive with someone. That clearly was not the issue. Was it her looks? She was objectively attractive, but so was I. Johnny was clearly enamored with her. So was Frank, I guess.
I thought about Frank in spite of myself. It was laughable that he would not be attracted to me. For God’s sake I’m a gorgeous 18 year old girl, and he’s a hideous, slobbering incel. I pictured him in his boxers and wifebeater, his flabby belly hanging out. I imagined his filthy stench. My breathing became heavier. I mean, like I get completely why he’s into Candace, but how could I seriously not be his type?? Maybe this new look would move the needle a little..
“All done,” Becky said suddenly, spinning me around and interrupting me from my reverie.
It took several seconds for me to comprehend that the countenance staring back at me was in fact me. The girl looking at me was stunning.. Her skin was flawless; her wide, sultry eyes were innocent yet alluring; her long brown hair with sexy blond highlights made her look like a goddess.
“I’m… kinda hot” I stammered in disbelief.
“Duh” Candace smirked.
“Can’t say as I disagree,” added Becky looking me over. I shivered.
“Mani/pedi time!!” Candace called out whisking me to another part of the salon.
Candace and I lay side by side as Becky expertly massaged our feet. I couldn’t help but notice how cute Candace’s toenails were. Each one was a different pastel color. According to Candace, Frank really liked feet and pretty toenails. Gross..
I closed my eyes again, and imagined me and Candace with matching toenails. I pictured Frank leering at us approvingly. Absolutely disgusting… A small moan escaped my lips- hopefully indecipherable.
I ended up going with cute pastels, each one a different color like Candace’s.
“Twinsies!!!” she squealed. I looked down, embarrassed.
I also bought a cute little ankle bracelet and a toe ring to further draw people’s attention towards my feet.
For my fingernails, Candace thought he would like bright red. Lacking a strong opinion of my own, I consented.
When we were done, she threw down a credit card and paid for everything. I thanked Becky shyly, before Candace whisked me off.
“Candace, that is really too kind of you. You really didn’t need to pay for me,” I said.
“It’s not me paying, silly. It’s my Daddy,” she replied.
“Your. Daddy?” I looked at her quizzically.
“My sugar daddy. He gives me a generous allowance each week. I just keep him company some times when he’s lonely,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I see.”
The picture was becoming bursa merkez escort clearer. She was not exclusive with Johnny or Frank. She was just… kind of a slut! I was about to say something judgmental, but bit my tongue instead. Candace was being really sweet. There was no need to ruin it. I felt my anger and resentment towards her dissipate.
“Now let’s get you out of those rags,” she said.
Our first stop was Urban Outfitters. Candace was of the opinion that my legs and my butt were some of my best attributes, but I was keeping them hidden. I tried to be open minded to her feedback. After all, this was the one area of life where she was more knowledgeable than I was.
She brought me piles of skirts and miniskirts to try on. Some of them looked like they were made for a cheap hooker. I rejected some of her more extreme choices, but surprised myself by considering some of the more daring ones.
Her choices in tops were provocative to say the least! They were all crop tops or halter tops or tube tops that highlighted my shoulders, back and midriff.
We made a no, yes, and maybe pile for everything. She wanted me to try on different outfit combinations. I was initially very shy to model these clothes, but Candace was very encouraging.
When I modeled a combination she really liked, she would say things like, “Dammnn girl”, “Slay”, “sick”, and “10/10”. My crowd did not speak this way, so I made a mental note of her interesting colloquialisms.
Finally I found the combination that she liked the most- a red tube top and a short jean skirt.
“Ooohhh, he is going to love this,” she cooed.
Of course the whole premise she was operating out of was nuts, but I didn’t have the energy to keep correcting her.
Again, Candace or her “daddy” generously paid for everything.
Next we went to the shoe store, where I tried on an assortment of strappy heels and platform shoes. As I strutted about for Candace, I never felt so felt so feminine or desirable. I twirled around, showing off my sexy legs and feet. We narrowed it down to two options.
“Which one do you think h..”
“He’d definitely want that one,” she said pointing to a pair of open toed strappy stilettos with a dash of red fur. I looked at her shyly, before nodding my assent.
She had one more surprise for me. Without telling me where we were going, she led me to a dank looking store overseen by a heavily tattooed, rough looking gentleman with a long, scraggly beard.
“Hiya Candy,” he greeted us. Of course she knew him!
“Hey there Lex,” she cooed. “We’re thinking about something for my cute friend here.” I looked away. It just dawned on me. We were in a tattoo parlor!!
“Candace, I’m sorry I’m not getting a tattoo. That is too much,” I insisted.
“No pressure, honey,” she said, but then whispered in my ear, “but he’s really into tats and piercings.” I shivered, feeling her breath against my skin.
“Well, maybe I could get one piercing,” I whispered back, my lips subtly brushing her ear.
“Yayyy!!” She squealed.
“What do you think..”
“He’d definitely love a belly button ring. It would go great with all your new cute tops!”
“Um.. okay I guess I could try it,” I said timidly. I really hoped Lex knew what he was doing.
“Will you stay with me?” I asked pleadingly.
“Of course, honey. What are friends for?”
It just occurred to me in that moment that Candace was my friend now.
Lex laid me down on the chair. I appreciated his quiet unspoken authority. He began by cleaning and disinfecting the area surrounding my navel. I became aware of the sensation of his big, masculine hands touching me there.
As he worked, Candace lit another cigarette. Again, the enclosed space trapped the smoke and my lungs were the recipient of most of it. I felt my mind and body relax, even as he pierced my skin with the needle. After wiping away a small amount of blood, he expertly thread the jewelry into my body. I noticed the strong, tender, and authoritative way he touched me.
When we were all done, I looked at myself in the full length mirror. With my recently highlighted hair blow dried straight, my newly purchased crop top revealing my navel piercing, and my cute skirt accentuating my legs and recently pedicured toes, I looked like a walking teenage fantasy. I knew I could never wear this to school, but maybe for a date with William or a party sometime?
Candace looked me up and down lasciviously, appreciating her handiwork. Licking her lips, she sensuously leaned her head into mine, softly kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “He’s gonna love it.”
I felt my nipples harden through my new top and my body begin to tingle. I really need to disabuse her of the notion that I have any interest or attraction to Frank, I thought to myself as I bit my lower lip.
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