Candy Ever After (Hot Candy 2)

As I sit at my computer after work, I wonder how many girls masturbate daily, compliments of my blog. I should charge them for this.

Smirking at the thought, I log off—only to find Brylee sitting across from me, on my bed.

“Aarrrgh!” I jump off my chair, sending it crashing to the floor, my heart pounding. “Shit. Bry! God!”

“You serious right now?” She scowls. “I scared you that much?” She pats her hair. “Is it the new style?”

“Crap. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That much is obvious. You’re lost in a fantasy instead of living in the real world.”

She really seems to take personal offense at that.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Come out with me.”

“No way.”

“Candy…what did we say about fantasy guys?”

“They are real. I met them both now, you know. In the real world.” And she saw Jethro at the concert, so she should know.

“Yes, fine. But did either of them ask you out?”

“One of them came close,” I say defensively.

If I hadn’t let my big mouth run with no filter.

“Or not.”

“Bry…”

“Let me do your hair. And make up your face. You’ll look so pretty. Come on, Candy…”

“You want to use me like a doll to play.”

She scrunches up her nose. “That sounds harsh. I just want you to let out your real you.”

Okay… “My real me will be freed through the use of make-up and the curling iron?”

“The outside reflects the inside.” She puts her hands on her ample chest, and her face contorts melodramatically. “If you look good outside, you will feel powerful inside.”

There may be something in what she says…

“I’m going now.” She waves a manicured hand at me and smacks her ruby-colored lips. “Think about it. Want to get the boys? Work a little for it. The offer stands.”

I watch her go.

Hey, I’m sure Joel would have asked me out had I not inserted my foot into my mouth. Right? Or is that really super-wishful thinking?

What would I have to lose by following Brylee’s advice except for lots of time I could have put to better use?

I blow a blond curl from my face, pull my braids back, purse my lips. Have I overdone it? Did I bury my real self too deeply? Also, do I look like a crazy person?

It is a possibility.

With a heavy sigh, I get up and open my closet. I push aside my Star Wars- and Lord of the Rings-themed clothes and reach for clothes I haven’t worn since before Liam.