Essay My High School Crush

“Not bad,” replied Gabby, who had thrown her bag up on the counter and was trying to fish out a lighter, “just got off!” Both of her stockings had a run in them and flicks of discarded food stuck to the sides of her tennis shoes. Her dress was black and sparkling. Vernon could tell she worked at another diner the moment she got out of the cab. The waitress flipped over an empty cup and poured out what was leftover of the coffee. Gabby had lite her cigarette, inhaled a drag, took a sip, and exhaled out a thick cloud of smoke in one single breath. “Ended up pulling a double?” The swirls in the smoke seemed to actuate Gaby's words. “Don’t remind me!” replied the waitress, who had removed one of her flats and was rubbing her heel, “I’ve been on and off my feet since 9:30 this morning.” Gabby looked towards the front of the diner at the back of Vernon’s head and then back at the waitress. “Rough night?” “Nope,” replied the waitress, “he’s been coming in here late for the last month or so, keeps to himself.” They both could see that Vernon was moving his hands while he was talking to himself. “We still on for tonight,” asked Gabby. “Maybe,” said the waitress, “as long we can get a table.” The band aids on the back of her heels needed to be replaced with new ones. Gabby

I’m sure many have shared stories of their high school experiences and can relate when I say those four years have taught me many lessons. During this time, I’d come face to face with the fraudulent friendships, temporary romances, and other high school dramas that my parents once warned me about—those of which I simply brushed off as myths. It wasn’t the 90’s anymore— times have changed and people are different—or at least, that’s what I thought.

Nick ran your fingers through Dulce’s plush blanket, feeling the softness between his clammy hands, and he glanced up to look at her posters, which were all surrealistic art, that made him wonder how she interpreted them. His legs felt heavy, and his head felt hot, so he sat down at her desk. Nick began to rummage through her things, like the curious, noisy, person he are. Nick managed to find stray chocolate kisses in her desk, and decided to pop one in his mouth, because they were Dulce’s favorite candy. Nick hated the taste, too sweet, and he hated the fact that she used to always leave little silver balls

Hair swept back into an adorable messy bun, an errant lock of hair dangling before her ear. Pretty blue eyes and big lips. Dark hair. An atypical heat stirred inside of him, settling in his groin and refusing to let go. She had a southern accent, just like everyone else in the town did, but from her lips it didn't irk him. In fact, there was an endearing quality to it Bennett found himself liking. And her curves...

William watched Tabitha climb out of the hot tub. He took in a long, full look at her ass. She stood at the edge of the hot tub, wringing water from her ponytail. Droplets of water trickled down over Tabitha’s chest and stomach. William watched Tabitha’s body steam in the frigid air, the night’s icy fingers tickled her body, tightening her flesh and firming her nipples. She walked around the side of the hot tub and sat down next to William, dipping her feet into the water. William felt the flesh of her thigh rub against his shoulder.

The music blared so loud through the speakers at the bar and grill MacGowan's Haven, that Alannah Chambers worked at that she had to shout in order for her customers to hear her. "What would you like sir?" She yelled at the middle aged man on the other side of the counter. He was a heavy set man with thinning salt and pepper colored hair and thick glasses, he wore faded blue jeans and a blue shirt that looked like it seen better days. Lots of them. He had a mustard stain on his shirt too that he hadn't bothered to wipe up. "Uh, I'll take a beer and a piece of that ass babe," he said, and grinned wickedly at her. If it had been a few years sooner, Alannah would have ignored him, but not this time, she was done with little-miss-shy-girl that

The cool night air played over her body as she leaned back, the moonlight causing her skin to glow. And Alduin lips trailed down her heated frame, leaving a trail of goosebumps down to lush breasts. She sucked in a breath as he bit down on the tender flesh as she practically purred with pleasure. The tension melting from her body as he took her hardening nipple into his mouth. Her hands gripping his shoulder as a shutter rushed through her

He did not appear to be the type to play the senseless game that was politics. To be someone's Queen held the promise of freedom... and affection. The latter of the two was a seemingly foreign concept, but she would love to see what it was like to be with a person that she, at least so far, liked. Yet again the sound of her own heart racing drummed in her ears. The precious and, for now, vital organ constantly attempting to lodge itself in her gullet, but the girl was determined, if not stubborn. The last kiss of her life. Such words did not escape her, for there was little doubt that her next kiss would be as cold as his icy blue gaze. At his question a smile tugged at the corner of her soft lips before their were happily seized. Again

With that he pulled her close for their first kiss, a kiss he made sure would scorch her soul. With his Selkie’s heighten senses he was able to hear her heart race from the pleasure of their kiss. Even as jaded as he was he felt a quickening of his own heartbeat. . After such a kiss he had to have more.

Awaiting the young hero's return the goddess couldn't help but stare off rather absent minded as the thoughts of the previous entangled within her brain. How would he react upon seeing her after all this time? Better yet, how would see? Seeing her beloved after such a long period of time; if made her heart beat nearly from the confines of her chest. A long sigh escaped her lips while the wafting smell of siring fish danced along the airwaves of the small one bedroom apartment, just across from the kitchen sat a table set for two with a rose in the center. It was romantic; she hoped. Dressed in a little black cocktail dress, and up-class converse green wedges. The lack of heels were, if only secretly a backup plan should he return with another

Just the thought of him had Piper shaking her head as she trudged across the boilding blacktop. The man always had his heart in the right place, but he had a knack for being one nosey S.O.B. He truly was a great guy, he’d given Piper every break he could find, and when that hadn’t been enough, he’d gone so far as to set up this meeting with Fynn. Piper knew he’d done it out of kindess, but she was also pretty sure he’d done it out of simply curiosity of what would become of it. The moment Fynn smiled, Piper couldn’t help but hesitate and think “here we go again”. The smile was defiantly chamring, but the red-head had seen just at “charming” could turn into in heartbeat If he was another one of those “just pop a few more buttons on your shirt” kind of guy, she may have to punch him. It was just too damned hot for that kind of shenagins. Thankfully, when she met his eyes, they were nothing like those other guys. These eyes were genuinely friendly, if not a bit nervous. Seeing that bit of nerves in him actually helped to calm her own, it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who had been dreading this meeting. “Pleasure to meet you.” She said with her own gentle smile, unpeterbed by his sweaty palm, knowing she wans’t much better. At least he had a real grip to his hand shake, some of these men she’d met shook hands like a limp fish, and nothing irriated her more. Srunching up her nose as he mentioned the weather, “Yeah, I never knew hell would be so humid.” Shaking her head, a smile still playing on her lips. Piper had to make a mental effort not to look him up and down, she may not have pulled of the sweaty look all that well, but he sure as hell

She had been blessed with long, silky, blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes. I loved her eyes. They were the same color as our father’s, and with him gone, I often felt as though Kayla was my only way to hold on the a small glimpse of him I still had in my life. Our father had died when Kayla had only just turned four, so she didn’t have the memories of him that I did, and I knew she envied me for it. She was too sweet to ever treat someone with animosity, even if they deserved it, as I felt I probably often did. I was the fiery sister, the one with stubbornness leaking from every pore. I was the one who held grudges, and made sarcastic comments. She, in turn, was quick to forgive and offer favors. I envied her, this. I simply hadn't the patience to deal with all the backbiting falsies of the world. As I stood there, thinking these thoughts, she drew away from the door of her room, coming instead, to the door of mine. She leaned quietly against the door frame, simply watching me as I reached for my boots. She was a quiet one, my sister, always observing, taking the measure of everyone she crossed. I wondered what she was thinking now, with her watchful eyes gazing at me with thoughtfulness. Finally, after a moment or two she spoke. “ Are you ok, T? I heard your argument with mom.” I quickly looked up at her from where I sat on the bed, pulling on my brown and turquoise boots. Mom and I had been arguing about Kayla’s medicine. I hadn't known she could hear us, talking in low, fierce voices in the

Vivid smoke softly floats from the brick chimney. As she gazes at the foggy sky through the front window by the fireplace, creases fold beneath her sunburned eyes. Streams of black eyeshadow slowly flow down either golden-brown cheek. It’s mid – September, and she expressed far too many times every little piece of what’s behind her destitute heart. Hannah. That’s her name. Shoulder-length Auburn hair, a beautiful smile with ocean blue eyes and a red rose tattoo on her lower back she received last summer while in New York. It’s visible when earlier during the day she bent over to throw a pile of leaves on Dan, her boyfriend. Hannah is clenching a pencil; her crumpled diary thrown next to her feet captures the deep sentiment she’s without a doubt missed hiding in plain sight.

She tore the material of the flannel shirt from her body, exposing her naked chest, sumptuous globes of flesh with dusky rose peaked nipples, already hard and begging for his mouth as well as her softly toned--she was a dancer, not a gymnast, meaning not every bit of her was toned muscle--stomach, her belly button ring still in place even after all the crazy events. Thank goodness for the stud. Undoing her shorts, she pushed them down, her skin all sorts of different colors of grime and sweat at the moment but even the dirtiness couldn’t take away from her curvy and shapely hips, the slender of her fit legs, the nail polish on her toes still in tact and not even cracked. For being dirty, she pulled it off pretty

I was walking back from lunch with my friend Matt, we were telling each other jokes about dead babies. I looked over and saw my little brother, I turned to Matt and said “watch this” then I ran up to my brother and tried to do a jumping high five. He didn’t think I was trying to high five him he thought I was trying to hit him. Out of instinct he pushed me away and I fell backwards, I landed and pivoted on the ball of my left foot. I thought I had gotten away safe and clear, I went to take a step and BAM! I had been tripped by my own untied shoelace, betrayed by my own apparel. I fell backwards and expected to hit lockers, unfortunately it wasn’t lockers or even a door. I had crashed into the glass display case, oh the utter humility. I hit the ground and leaned up on one arm, I was fine, not a scratch. Mrs. Wright come running up in total mom mode “ Oh my God, are you alright, AHH, don’t move!”.