I tried to do everything in my power to distance myself from Maverick Strong; Even putting some miles between us by moving across the country. Yet, here I find myself back where I started from - in my hometown and too close to Maverick. This time, there will be no running away. This time, I am finally putting an end to this vendetta.
Trying to forget her was like trying to avoid a head-on collision with a semi-truck - it just wasn’t happenin’. My little sister’s best friend and my enemy since sophomore year. Our hate is mutual and a must - it’s also fun. When Lundyn moves back home after leaving town the day after … Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself. Either way, the hate is still strong and if hating isn’t right, I don’t want to be wrong.
My fingers tap across my chest as I wait for Monica to finish stirring the wax. I am not by any means prude, but having my legs spread eagle waiting for hot wax to be applied just isn’t my definition of a good time.
“Just a little,” I admit.
“Promise you there’s no need, the first strip might be a surprise but after that, it’s smooth sailing.” Her words are meant to be assuring but fall short of easing any nervousness.
“Okay, since you promised and all,” I say to the ceiling, silently praying Monica’s fingers aren’t crossed.
A small gasp escapes as the gooey warm wax is generously spread over the top triangle of my va-jay-jay. Ok, I can do this, not bad.
Her cherub face appears over me. “How you doing, Lundyn?”
“Not too shabby, Monica.” I even give her a thumbs up. My confidence in the woman has risen about five notches. She’s knocking this out the park, and to think I was threatening to tit punch Harlow over this. I can be such a drama queen at times. Like I’m thinking I can get this done every two weeks or so.
My eyes bulge out of my head, and my knuckles turn ashen as I dig my fingers into the soft cushion of the table. When my brain finally registers what just happened, a scream of death escapes my mouth.
“What the fuck Monica?” I yell as she rips the other strip, holy mother of pearl, she still has one more to go. Jesus take the wheel. Dear Lord, I need you now. I am being ripped to shreds by this polka dot dressed demon named Monica.
Another blood-curdling scream and this time I curse Harlow and all her bright fucking ideas. Sweat beads form on my brow, and I have no other option but to breathe like I am in Lamaze class.
What the fuck does she mean am I ok? Did she not hear my cries for help, is she insane? Before I can respond, I feel more warm wax added to the center part of my now tormented va-jay-jay.
Two more rounds of rips and screams come and then she heads to my butt crack. Monica and my relationship is on the rocks right now, like seriously it’s her, not me.
“Hang in there, Lundyn this is our last part, and it’s the easiest,” she giggles before saying, “I promise.”
She’s such a little lying bitch.
“What I need you to do is grab your knees to your chest, so your bottom is spread for me.”
This is just…ugghhhh. Reluctantly I oblige, I mean I’ve gone this far, might as well be bald as a fucking eagle on my ass, too. Once again, she applies a thick layer of warm wax to both sides of my butt crack.
“Now, I’m going to need you to relax as I pull these strips off. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, got it, relax.” I regulate my breathing while giving myself a mental pep talk.
She tugs a little at the bottom of the strip, and it catches a piece of hair. I panic, I fucking panic and clench. And in the midst of this clenching, I adhere my ass cheeks together.
“Oh my, Lundyn I told you to relax,” she chastises loudly.
“I’m sorry. I got nervous Monica.”
“Well, you’re going to have to wait just a minute. I have to grab some scissors.” She starts to walk past me, but I grab her arm.
“Scissors for what?” Jesus Christ, what have I done that warrants scissors? I am full out sweating in places I shouldn’t be. Harlow is getting punched so fucking hard when she least expects it for talking me into this bullshit.
Monica looks down at me with sympathetic brown eyes. “You’ve managed to adhere your cheeks together and unless I cut the wax off they are going to stay that way.”
A lone tear travels down the side of my face, and I nod my understanding as I nudge her arm. “Go now Monica, get the scissors so you can unclip my ass cheeks.” I whimper and shoo her out the door.
About the Authors
RD Berg lives in the great state of Texas with her three boys who drive her to the brink of insanity most days. She loves to read, write and watch her two favorite shows, Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead. When she isn’t enthralled with a novel or a gory show, you can find her in the stands loudly cheering on her boys at their basketball and football games. She has three strong beliefs in life; Vanilla cake and Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream should be a major food group, Halloween should be celebrated every month, and Harry Potter’s birthday should be a national holiday.
I'm Texas proud with the accent to prove it. During the day I wear scrubs as a cape and try to save the world one patient at a time as a nurse. At night, mainly Friday nights, you can find me with a glass of wine faithfully by my side while I type away on the computer. I seem to get my days and nights mixed up because my best ideas seem to come around midnight, so I'm a complete night owl. I have a long-term boyfriend who puts up with my crazy and a black lab named Sadie AKA Sadie Lady. In the in-between times of my life, I'm just tryin' to survive my twenties with beer, good friends, and fun adventures!