All of the characters in this story are strictly of my own creation. Although, they do share physical characteristics of two famous women, but that's just physicality, what I envisioned when I thought up this story (because I think they're both pretty sexy, hehe.) But no, these characters are NOT based off of the real people they resemble, not at all, actually. I do not write RPF's, they kind of disconcert me, actually, but anyway, I'll just leave it at that.
A tiny bit of violence, a small fight, not graphic by any means. For cursing, there are a lot, my girls are quite colorful in their speech, but I hope this doesn't offend.
Now that's an intriguing way of putting it! But yes, there is, and it can get quite intense, but, there is no legitimate sex (complicated, I know, but things do get a little spicy between two female characters.) So, if you don't enjoy reading stories where two, consenting, young women (they are both high school seniors, which means they both are at least seventeen years old, for your information) fool around in an intimate manner, then veer away from here as quickly as humanly possible, or, as fast as your computer can take you.
This specific story is named after the song of the same name (I Kissed A Girl) by Katy Perry. I'm sure you all have heard of that song before, but if you haven't, I'm sure you can comprehend what it is about.
- If any of you cannot LEGALLY drink then sorry, go away.
- If any of the above is not permitted where you live then, sorry but you can't read either (I suggest you move!)
- Or if this just down right makes you uncomfortable then leave, but if it does, why are you on this site anyway?
If any of you have comments or suggestions (perhaps requests?) feel free to email me all of that good stuff here: firstname.lastname@example.org A little note…if it's hate mail, you will be continuously bothered by an irritated little blonde bard, aka: ME. And trust this; I can get ANNOYING.
With that…READ ON!!!
Written By CXW
Wretched sunlight pours down upon me, and I wrap my black trench coat tighter around my gaunt frame as if the light sears my pale skin. My eyes drift up to the luminous blue sky, getting lost in the vision of wispy white clouds, and I think: I hate my life. Sure, it is decent enough, I have everything I could possibly need, but, I've always wanted something...more. Not in the materialistic sense, but in the sense that waking up in the morning is an anticipated excitement, rather than a dreary disappointment. A small piece of my life that makes me feel erratically and irrationally happy that I'm alive. I suppose what I'm actually saying is that I simply want to feel "alive", to feel the adrenaline pumping, full force, through my veins; I would like to experience this preferably before I'm dead. Now, I don't mean to sound pathetic or pretentious, but it's true...so utterly true.
Taking a cigarette from the breast pocket of my coat, I light it, and take a deep drag, watching the smoke dissolve in the rays of the sun. I run my fingers over the soft material of my red tartan skirt, arrantly playing with the strands of chains along the side. Looking down at my dirty, black combat boots, I remain thinking. My mind is spinning like a fast moving carousal, the same topics, as always, being continuously questioned in my head. What am I missing? Why aren't I happy? But I am forced out of my reverie by the slamming of the front door; Kat, my sister, emerges into the morning air. Blinking my eyes, they're green by the way; I turn my head and watch her descend down the white stairs, plopping down beside me. Her fiery, crimson hair frames her heart-shaped face in a disheveled manner, and a smoldering cigarette dangles from her full lips; fully dressed in a forest green army jacket over top of a white wife-beater and a pair of black Tripp pants. She makes me intensely jealous sometimes, simply because she doesn't even have to try and she's beautiful, her body portraying the inevitable curse of womanhood with each slender curve; whereas I'm the other "Fitz" sister with a short, petite build, and stringy, dirty blonde hair. Although we look nothing alike, we are identical when it comes to personalities, both, being very morbid, and odd, defying the "norm" of our high school and garnering the title of out casters. But, that's the way we like it, we have each other, forever, and we don't need anyone else. I shake my head and come back to reality, tilting my head to the side I notice she's looking at me expectantly. Kat mostly likely said something, but I wasn't paying attention, as per usual.
"What?" I question, grabbing my notebooks from the wooden stairs and stand up, walking down the pathway.
"I've been talking to you for the past five minutes, you didn't hear a fucking word I said, did you?" She accused, brushing her hair behind her ears before following me.
"No, I didn't. I only listen to intelligent thought processes, and you seem to be lacking..."
"Eat it, Em!" Kat retorts, playfully pushing me onto the sidewalk.
We casually walk, side by side, the block to our high school; a human cesspool of raging hormones, over-sexed teenagers, and idiotic and dramatic events. It's like living in a well-lit black hole, one that I would much rather waiting out in my room with Kat, my sister, and my best friend. But, I have to say, there are some perks, such as a certain female that, coincidentally, is in all of my classes. I can't even picture her in my mind without going weak in the knees. Shit! It's appalling. She makes me feel so...normal. It's disgusting, but, paradoxically, it's quite blissful and fascinating. My heart beat accelerates at the mere thought of her, but then, as usual it drops as the voice in the back of my head speaks up: "she's too good for you, she'll never notice you!" Shut up, I berate myself, even though I know it is the truth. Sighing, I look up and see the school, a scowl forming across my lips at the sight. Suddenly, a hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around until I'm facing the owner of the fingers, Kat.
"Jesus, Em, what's up with you this morning?" She asks, searching my eyes for any clue, "you've been zoning out for the past twenty minutes, what are you..." then she smiles, a victorious smile stretching across her pale face. She found what she was looking for, fuck! "You're thinking about her aren't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about..." I mumble, stepping out of her grasp and cross the street to the school, Kat running up behind me.
"You damn well know exactly what I'm talking about. Her, over there..." she points across the emerald green court yard towards the entrance steps of the school, and, of course, bounding down the stairs is none other than..."Brigitte Sinclair."
My body stiffens, and my eyes grow wide and glossy. Everything around me disappears except for Brigitte, her luminous beauty pulling me in, body and mind. Golden hair flutters around her oval face, a bright smile plastered across her lips. The pleats of her black, short, skirt ruffle across her shapely legs, giving way to knee high stockings and platform Mary Janes. Her thin, toned abdomen tightly covered by a black and white tartan shirt, and navy blue, cardigan vest; accentuating every seductive curve of her body. The lithe form reaches the bottom of the stairs, and for an instance, our eyes lock. All logical thought gets thrown out of my brain and my lungs cease pumping oxygen through my body. And then, as quickly as it started, it's over as she turns around and walks away. I can't believe that for a fleeting moment I actually thought she noticed me. More than likely she looked right through me; the only time I'm not invisible to my peers is when I'm the victim of their torment. Perhaps my subconscious is right; I'm not good enough for her. Not even close. My self battlement ends quickly as I receive a harsh jab in the arm from my sister.
"Ouch! What the fuck was that for?!" I shriek, rubbing my arm, trying to rid the limb of pain.
"You're so obvious in your adoration it makes me sick!" She spits, although her remark is biting, I know she's kidding, "I'm sure she thinks you're a creep or a stalker, or both...Which you are." We both laugh lightly and continue walking through the courtyard, but she stops me again, mid-step, a serious expression pasted on her face. "Although it's highly unlikely, if you win Miss. Teen Queen's heart, you better fucking promise me that you won't go average on me!"
"I'd rather die!" I retorted in shock, "preferably hung, drawn, and quartered. You know how I adore the gore."
Kat gave me one of her signature, 'I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that' looks, scoffed and walked away, leaving me in her wake. She is most likely going for her morning 'educational' nicotine fix, helps her to kick off the edge before classes start. If I didn't mind the potheads I would most likely go with her, like everywhere else, but, instead, I always opted for the sheltered shade of the oak tree beside the stairs. Sit on the grass, open a book, and read until either my nerves were under control or the starting bell rang. Giving one last look at her retreating form, I began my trek to my favorite, on campus, spot. I claimed I was a hardcore chick, tough enough to give anyone a run for their money, but the truth is, I feel terrified when I'm out of Kat's reach. She protects me, keeps me sane, and when she's gone I go mad with fear. Speaking of fear, my sworn enemy, Meghan Bradley, is running right at me, looking frazzled. Too stunned to move, she collides right into me dropping all of her belongings to the ground. I start to shake, oh shit! Her face lifts up and she glares at me, a wolf-like scowl on her face.
"What the fuck is your problem, you freak?! Can't you see you're in my way!"
I step back and try to stutter a 'sorry', but the horror of the situation makes my tongue break; a mere squeak escaping my throat. She laughs at me, her eyes glowing with the grand power she knows she wields over me. Slowly she stalks closer and closer to me until I'm so scared I can't move at all. At this point she comes nose to nose with me. Bracing herself, she shoves me in the chest, hard, and I topple over, my notebooks scatter across the grass. Ignoring the pain, I glance to the side and can see Kat running full force towards us, her body lunges at Meghan, and the small brunette falls beneath the weight of my sister, screaming.
"Get off me, you crazy bitch!"
"Don't you ever touch my sister again!" Yells Kat, slamming Meghan's pretty little face against the dewy grass. "Or else I'll kill you myself! Got it?!"
If I could think clearly I would probably laugh, or at least smirk at the situation playing before me. It's a feeble chain-reaction, I'm afraid of Meghan, and Meghan is terrified of Kat. Blinking my eyes open and shut, I try to push myself up off the ground to no avail, what a piss off! Then, out of nowhere, a slender hand extends out towards me. Looking down I see the infamous Mary Jane platforms and my heart skips a beat. Rolling my eyes up the body of my savior, there stands Brigitte Sinclair, a soft, concerned smile pressed across her lips. Grabbing the warm fingers she pulls my near-limp body from the grass, with a strange sense of strength.
"Pretty bad spill, huh?" The girl of my dreams states, moving her eyes up and down my body, making sure I'm alright.
Before I can even realize it, I notice that our fingers are still intertwined. Snapping my hand away I give a soft, nervous laugh, Brigitte reciprocates my motions and releases a small chuckle, her blue eyes sparkling. Meeting her gaze I get lost in her irises, they are the deepest shade of cerulean, endless in their grasp, and I can't look away. Instead, I hold her gaze and give a meek smile, resembling my thanks. Slowly, her eyes fall away and she looks behind her; Meghan running off the court yard, crying, and Kat wiping her hands off on her pants. After seeing the result of my protective sister, Brigitte snickers, and moves about the grass, picking up my fallen books. Once all are collected, she turns back to me, and combusts in a luminous smile, far brighter than the sun, and I feel warm and safe within the light that is Brigitte's aura. Extending her arms she passes me back my belongings, and our fingers graze across each other, my body jolts at the electricity of the innocent touch, my mouth going dry. Her eyes snap up to mine, and her harmonic voice breaks through the silence.
"I hope you are alright, Emilie." she starts, wrapping her arms around her chest. "Meghan had no reason to do that to you, and I hope you know that karma has a red target on her back." Is it just me, or is she fidgeting nervously? Nah, probably my mind playing tricks on me..."Anyway, I best be going, I hope you have a great day, today, Emilie. You deserve it!"
With that, she turns sharply and strolls away, but turns around when she reaches the entrance doors, waves, and disappears inside. My hand hangs limply in the air, a trepid attempt at waving back. I can't believe what just happened; I can't believe she knows my name. Breathing comes unnaturally fast, and I can feel my palms sweating. Aside from the random brush with Meghan, this has been the best day in my life. Not only did Brigitte Sinclair know who I was, she was concerned about me, and wanted to help. I clutch my chest in a sad attempt to slow my beating heart, but I know it will be on top speed for the rest of the day. Gently, a soft hand cups my shoulder, turning my around slowly. Kat's hazel eyes look all over my body, looking for any mark of harm. Even if I were hurt, I wouldn't care, I was floating on cloud nine, nothing could tear me down, not today, not after what happened.
"You alright, Em?" Kat questions, pure concern wavering in her voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." I stammer, my eyes coming in and out of focus. Zoning back in, I smile, "no, I'm great! Excellent! Heavenly!"
"Meghan is right, you're a freak!"
"I would rather be a freak than..." I pause for a millisecond, unnoticed, thinking of some witty remark about Meghan, "your average cum-buckety date bait."
"Nice one!" Kat laughs, leaning against the oak tree.
Of course, I don't tell her that I didn't make that up on the spot; it was a quote from some movie I watched the other night. Today, after all the excitement, my mind doesn't seem to be working thoroughly enough to be able to make an intelligent retort of my own. The bell rings, reverberating throughout the court yard, and I jump in surprise. Kat scoffs at me, and takes a cigarette from her pant's pocket, and lights it errantly. I give her a strange look, and point at my AP English notebook, and walk off, almost skipping, but I refrain. I may be having an amazing day, but I can't lower my reputation by acting like such a girl.
By the time I enter the school, the hallway is near to empty, late again, as always. Jogging to my locker, I spin the dial, and pull it open, grabbing my canvas knapsack, and slam it back into place. Taking long strides I emerge into the English wing, and step into my classroom a mere second after the late bell. And, of course, this does not go unnoticed by my distraught teacher, Mr. Perkins. Giving him a sheepish smirk, I put my eyes to the floor and slip into my desk, dropping my supplies on the top. Hopefully he won't give me another lecture, but when I still feel his beady, little eyes on me, I know my hope is lost.
"Well, Miss. Fitzpatrick, it seems you aren't as late as usual." I nod, and look away. "You best get out of your insistent habit of tardiness, or you won't make it very far in this class." I scowl at him underneath my blonde bangs, then acknowledge him with a polite smile.
"Of course, Mr. Perkins, it won't happen again."
He looks at me hard, and then turns around to face the chalkboard. Pulling out my notebook I begin to write down the notes that are being scrawled across the board, but I feel nervous, and jittery, like I'm being watched. Looking up, I notice Mr. Perkins still facing the board. If it's not him, then who is it? Turning around in my chair, I scan the room, and there, in the row beside mine, a couple seats back, sits Brigitte. Her small hands are folded on top of her open binder, thin legs crossed properly, but her eyes, those large, sparkling blue eyes are staring straight at me. When she realizes that I'm looking back, she turns away, blushing lightly. My lips break into a large, idiotic grin, and I switch back to the front of the room, shaking my head in surprise. Maybe my romantic fantasies aren't so dumb and unreal after all...
"Now, class, I am going to pass out the essays that were due last week." Mr. Perkins grins, holding up a stack of marked papers. "Most of you did quite well." He states, putting extra emphasis on 'most of you'. I'm screwed.
Several moments have passed, and Mr. Perkins is making his way around the room, passing out papers errantly. People either sigh, at their average mark, or high five their friends and squeal, if they have a relatively high score. I slouch in my chair, crossing my arms, waiting expectantly. I know I've got this one in the bag, I worked my ass off on that essay, and I get great marks, in general, in this class. I'm not worried. Though, I still get nervous when he walks towards me, and throws the ten page paper on my desk. Picking it up, and turning it over in my hands, my eyes almost burst out of my skull at the sight of a bright, red 'C' minus. My mouth drops open and I gawk at the failure written across the title page. Flipping through, I read the neatly written, snide comments, and crumple the papers in my hands, a boiling anger making me fidget in my chair. I can't stand it, and it explodes out of me before I have time to control it.
"What the fuck is this?!" I spit, looking expectantly at my teacher, who just looks at me in shock. "I worked my ass off on this paper, more so than most of my peers, I'm sure, and I get a fucking 'C'?!"
"Young lady, I will not tolerate your inconsolable, profanity!" He states, his face turning red, "if you continue I will not shudder to send you to the office."
"This is bullshit!" I mumble, but he hears me and points to the door.
"Gladly." I remark, jumping out of my desk and walk to the door. Looking back, I see Brigitte pout, and I feel terrible that she had to witness my display, but I'm horribly angry and I just couldn't hide it.
Before I leave the classroom, I throw my essay down on Mr. Perkin's desk, and leave the room, spitting back:
"You can shove that piece of shit paper up your ass!"
Strolling down the hallway, I look at the yellow, and white tiled floor. My skirt ruffles across my ankles, and I am momentarily mesmerized by the moving of the fabric against my boots. Shaking my head, I slip back into reality, and remember my anger. Fishing tailing through the corridor, I slam all the open lockers shut; the loud sound makes me feel a little bit better, but not enough. Huffing and puffing, I enter the office, and plop down into my usual chair. The secretary does not bothering to look up for she knows that it's me.
I watch her fake, red hair bob up and down as she types at the computer. Looking around, I read the posters over the drab, white walls; I've read them a million times before, but it seems to be an office ritual for me. Check out what Charlotte, the secretary, is doing, look at the posters, then glance out the door, and watch people walk by. After reading over the educational banners, I change my view to the door, and since no one is walking about, I stare at the lockers, getting lost in thought. Eventually, something blocks my view, and I blink my eyes several times, realizing what's standing in the frame of the doorway, Brigitte. She's standing there in all of her perfect, beautiful glory. She flashes me a quick smile, then sashays into the main office, stopping right in front of me, at the counter, and leans over to talk to Charlotte. My eyes follow her every, agonizing movement until she leans onto the counter, and my breathing becomes labored. As she slouches about on the wood, her skirt shimmies up, just a bit, revealing more of her slender legs. I can't stop staring at her ass, it's driving me insane.
Quietly, Brigitte talks to Charlotte about something; I can't hear, and eventually Charlotte removes herself from behind her desk, and walks to the door of the office. The gorgeous blonde follows her to the door, and I expect her to leave as well, but when the secretary evacuates into the hallway, Brigitte simply closes and locks the entrance. Turning around, she eyes me lightly and approaches, her hips swaying with each step, and I bite my bottom lip. Once she is in front of me, I look up at her expectantly from beneath my hair, waiting for her to say something. She doesn't. She simply stares at me, a strange glimmer in her luminous eyes. My body starts to shiver, as her eyes seem to devour my body. Then slowly, she bends down, her knees pressing into the cool floor, crouching between my legs. Green eyes widen as I sit here in utter shock; what is she doing? Shifting her body slightly, she gracefully sets her elbows on my knees, and holds her angelic face in her hands.
"I asked Mr. Perkins if I talked to you, if your detention would be dismissed..." Brigitte smiles up at me, rows of white teeth glowing in the fluorescent light, "he accepted my offer, so here I am."
"Uh...oh..." I stammer, slouching into the vinyl chair. "W-what are we g-going to talk about...?"
"Nothing..." she whispers, dropping her palms to my thighs, moving them in circular motions. "Unless you're into that sort of thing..."
"I--" my throat cracks, as her fingers continue rubbing my legs. I dismiss it, and continue; mustering all of my courage to get out a proper sentence. "I would rather be committed to an excruciating insane asylum, rather than get another lecture."
Brigitte's harmonious laughter fills the room, her head falling back in amusement. Golden hair falls across her back and her hands grab onto my thighs, supporting her body as she convulses in giggles. I, in all honesty, have no idea what she finds so funny, but I laugh none the less. Happy, simply because I made her laugh. After a few seconds, she composes herself, and flings her head forward; her hair falling over her eyes, a small smirk still adorns her full, ruby red lips. Brigitte's eyes find mine, and my green and her blue lock, an intense moment being shared between the two of us, and my heart completely stops. This day is becoming far too good. First, Brigitte notices me, knows my name. Then she follows me to the office, and touches and stares at me...Am I dreaming? I sure, fucking hope not!
"You're odd..." she comments, removing her hands from my body. I knew it was too good to be true...
"Oh..." I mumble, dropping my head in shame.
"That was a compliment..." she breaths, lifting my chin, and looking me in the eye once again, "I like strange girls..."
My breath comes out in hot spurts, and I can't control myself. I start violently shaking in my chair; I have never been so thoroughly turned on before. Brigitte's eyes are very dark, and intense, I can't look her in the eye, for I know if I do I'll lose complete control. Gently, she sets her hands on my knees and lightly pushes them apart, slipping closer to me. The fabric of my skirt presses up, over my knees, stopping at the tops of my thighs. Even now, she pushes closer to me, until her tight stomach is presses against my center, and I let out a small gasp at the contact. Leaning up, she puts her lips to my ear, her hot breath washing over my neck.
"...I like you..."
Pulling back, after revealing her secret, she brushes her golden hair off her face, and takes a deep breath. My eyes have become glossy with desire, and when I look down at Brigitte, settled between my parted thighs, licking her lips, all I can imagine is her naked body pressed against mine in a moment of passion. That was the wrong thought, and I find myself beginning to drench my panties with arousal. Then, suddenly, her hands are on my body once again, taking off my trench coat, running her fingers over my abdomen, slipping over my breasts, and then cupping my face in the palms of her hands. Without releasing her hold on me, she stands up, straddles my limp legs, and sits in my lap. Brigitte's breath has become dangerously ragged, her chest rising and falling quickly. My head falls back at the thought of the intimate situation I'm in, and who I'm with, and my eyes roll into the back of my skull in pure enjoyment. As soon as my neck is exposed her lips are on my throat, licking and sucking the tender flesh. I moan, and squirm under her talented mouth, my hands wrap around her petite waist and grasp the material of her knit vest in the fingers. Brigitte's hot tongue leads a trail of saliva up my gullet, reaching my lips, she flicks it across my lips and presses her lips down on mine. Her mouth devours mine hungrily, and I quickly open my mouth letting her take total control. I may not have any idea why she is doing this, but she is, so I have no plan of stopping her anytime soon. Her tongue invades my mouth, intertwining her's with mine. After several moments, we stop, catching our breaths. Opening my eyes I realize that we're still in the main office, and I feel desperately nervous.
"Brigitte..." I start, watching as her mouth drops back down to my throat, her hands starting to run up under the hem of my shirt.
"Uh, we're-oh, God..." Cut off by her expert fingers teasing, and cupping my breasts. Shaking my head, I continue: "We're in the main office...at school...with hundreds of people all over the place..."
"I know..." Brigitte moans, grabbing my hand and pushing it beneath her skirt, "...isn't it exciting?!"
Wrapping my right arm around Brigitte's slender shoulders, I pull her close to me, our foreheads touching, breaths mingling together. As I roughly, yet gently, push my fingers against her mound, I crash my lips against hers, and she screams into my mouth. Rampantly, Brigitte's slim hips gyrate against my fingers, wanting ultimate contact. As our lips play over each other in a passionate symphony, our tongues dancing to the rhythm, I slither my fingers just under the band of her panties, and she digs her fingernails into my back in desperation. My head is dizzy, and the southern part of my anatomy is getting wetter, and wetter as the girl of my dreams moans, and presses against me. But, just as I'm about to slip the rest of my hand into her underwear, the doorknob of the principal's office begins to jerk. Jumping away from me, Brigitte adjusts her skirt, pats down her hair, and stands facing the slowly opening door. Standing up to fix my skirt, I lean over and steal a chaste kiss from Brigitte's sweet lips, and she laughs.
The door flies open, and a tall, robust man stalks out of the confines of the office. Situating his tie, he looks at both of us, standing perfectly straight in front of him, skeptically, and approaches Brigitte. A smile lights Mr. Franklin's, the principal's, wallowing face as he nods to Brigitte, our school's star pupil, and extends his hand.
"Thank you for taking your precious class time to help with one of our more troublesome..." he glares at be beneath his glasses, and I smirk, "...students. Did you seem to straighten out the situation?" He questions, eying the blonde once more.
"I wouldn't say that the debacle was 'straightened'..." Brigitte starts, winking at me, "but we did work very hard, and have come to a conclusion."
Not being able to contain myself, I burst into laughter at Brigitte's wit of putting emphasis on choice words. Although it was raunchy, it was hilarious. Mr. Franklin stared at me, discontented, but dismissed my presence and continued talking to Brigitte. Walking away from the two, I sat back down in my chair, and watched the beautiful girl as she articulated to the principal; her hands flailing in the air when she spoke, her weight switching sides over the period of time. I adore the way she moves, and how every once in a while she'll look away from Mr. Franklin and stare at me, smile, then look away. After several moments, the principal dismisses Brigitte, but before she leaves, she comes over and talks to me.
"Mr. Franklin says he wants to talk to you for a moment, but then you'll be free to go back to class..." Her fingers graze against one of my palms, the hand that, moments ago, made her moan, and intertwines our fingers. "I have to go..." she whispers, sullen, "but, I was hoping, maybe later, we could, um..." Brigitte's voice trails off and she becomes extremely nervous. Her fingers release mine and she begins to fidget.
Hard to think that before we were so rudely interrupted, she was ready to ravish me in an office chair, and now she's a bumbling heap of nerves.
"I would love to spend time with you after school today..." I whisper, a lump forming in my throat, "...if you want to...?"
A large, luminous smile graces her face, and she looks deeply into my eyes with those large azure orbs. It looks as if she is about to jump into the air with excitement, but she refrains, and folds her hands across her stomach.
"I would love to..." giving me one last smile before she turns and walks to the door.
"Miss. Fitzpatrick, my office, for a moment?" Mr. Franklin asks rhetorically, disappearing into his office.
Getting out of my chair, I head for his office, but before I enter, I glance to the door. Brigitte is leaning against the frame of the door, adjusting her pristine, white, knee-high, socks. When she realizes she's being stared at, she looks up at me and smiles. Biting her lip, she waves, and vanishes around the corner; her image still emblazed within my mind. And as I walk into the office I can't help but gloat that I have garnered the affections of Brigitte Sinclair. The most beautiful, and intelligent girl in the entire town; in the entire world, in my opinion. I feel like the luckiest girl alive. Sitting down in the chair across from Mr. Franklin's desk, I think back to my thoughts this morning, perhaps, after all, I have finally found that one thing that was missing, just maybe...
This ending isn't enough for you? You want to know more about these girls? If you want to read more about Emilie and Brigitte, let me know, and I will quickly, and gladly write more about these two, and if not, well, we'll just leave it at that. Again, thank you for reading my story!!! Give feedback at email@example.com