What Took You So Long?

I had a dream last night that reminded me of a friend. It’s funny because I haven’t thought of her in years. She’s someone from my distant past. Her name is Megan Fox. The last time I saw Meagan was the summer before high school. We were best friends all throughout middle school then she just disappeared. Years later, I heard a rumor that she dropped out, got into drugs, and wasted away.

My dream was more of a memory––something that happened between us I rarely spoke of. Back then, Megan was this 5’2 punk-chick. She was really small––like 90lbs soaking wet. She had long raven hair that stopped above her butt. Her bust wasn’t very large, the boy’s used to tease her about it, but she’d usually throw a right hook and that would be the end of that. When Meagan wasn’t dressed like a punk with dark mascara and black band t-shirts, she looked rather stunning with her olive complexion and light green eyes.

Meagan was my next-door neighbor through middle school. Her mother’s boyfriend was a real dick. He drank like a fish. When she was younger, he’d sneak into her room when he was drunk and molest her. That was of course until she introduced him to her right hook years later. After that, he’d just belittle her in public and to her mother who was usually too drunk or cracked up to care. Because of this abuse, she spent a lot of time at my house.

Meagan and I were different in every way. My parents are both attorneys who work together and have been together since high school. Although some find it sweet, it would make me sick. And just like her parents were always home, mine were always busy with a case, so they were never home. I learned quickly to fend for myself especially being an only child, which was the only thing Meagan and I had in common.

I was, and still am, 5’9. My hair was a natural platinum blonde and my weight remained constant around an athletic 115lbs. I loved sports––still do. It always made me smile to put the boys to shame. My sports were Track and Field, Basketball, and Volleyball. I’m a really competitive girl, so when a challenge presented itself––I was usually all in.

Meagan and I didn’t really hangout at school. It wasn’t because I refused to talk to her, she just didn’t like the people I hung out with. She called them fake. Maybe they were but we played sports together, some of our parents were friends, and that’s kind of how it always had been.

One Friday night, we were at my house as usual. My parents were out at some black tie gala. Meagan and I decided to spice up 90210 and Melrose Place with something from my parent’s liquor cabinet. Meagan chose Jack Daniels on the rocks and I opted for a smoother vodka and cranberry.

After a few glasses of vodka and cranberry, I was feeling really good. That’s when it happened. I was talking about Dylan from 90210, a hot older boy from the show, and Meagan kissed me on my lips. I was so shocked; I didn’t know what to do. I stood frozen in her embrace.

Making the excuse that I was hungry, I suggested we go upstairs and make something to eat––totally ignoring what just happened. I could tell Meagan felt awkward about what just happened, but I didn’t give her a chance to explain or apologize, I just kept changing the subject.

Once we raided the fridge of leftovers, we were feeling kind of tired, so we retreated to my room. A few hours later, we were both fast asleep on my king-sized canopy bed with the TV flickering in the corner.

Around 3a.m, I awoke to one of Megan’s snorts, which happened sometimes when she drank. It was cute and it didn’t really bother me. As I lay there in the bed staring at the ceiling, I thought about the kiss. As I looked over at her, I thought about her soft lips. I found my eyes drifting to her chest where two pinpricks were pushing through her black halter-top with the scull wearing lipstick. For some reason, Meagan’s nipples were always hard. The boys bugged her about it but she didn’t seem to mind, nor did I. As my eyes scanned her body, I found that I was no longer looking at her nipples, but my gaze was now resting on the over-sized Mickey Mouse boxers I had loaned her to sleep in.

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