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Rated: · Novel · Mystery · #1438684
Imagine the 7 deadly sins come to life.Beginning of prologue.Tell me if you'd keep reading
Taylor Simons looked up at the gleaming sun and smiled to herself. The first day of summer. Finally. She had been waiting forever for the pool party at Kyle Thomas’s house and now, it was time to go wow all of her soon-to-be junior friends with her killer body. She had always thought of herself as somewhat pretty, even if no one else really thought she was, but this year had been particularly kind to her. God had finally decided to grace her with some tanning abilities, toned legs, and a bra size that wasn’t in the negatives. She felt like a superhero. No, she felt better than a superhero. They have weaknesses. Taylor Simons was unstoppable.
She flashed a smile of her white-out white teeth to her mirror and fixed her beachy blonde hair. Her pink bikini was the perfect color against her golden-brown summer skin and she couldn’t help but take a few pictures of herself to stick up on her Myspace. She looked too good for words. She wasn’t conceited, just a little…proud.
*
Jamie Labbs opened her eyes and squinted, looking around her room. She looked over at the end table next to her--wait. This wasn’t her bed. She looked around some more. This wasn’t anybody’s bed. This was a sleeping bag. A pink Barbie sleeping bag. She held her head in between to clenched fists trying to squeeze the memories of last night out of her. She looked over at another sleeping bag. It was Sammi Vega. She was sleeping like an angel in her lilac silky bed and Jamie jumped out of Sammi‘s little sister‘s sleeping bag that she had borrowed, catching her memory. She realized that she was going to be late for the pool party. She tiptoed over to her purse and looked at her phone for the time. She had half an hour to get ready and get there. No prob.
As she closed the door to the bathroom, she tried to remember more of the previous night. It was Sammi’s end of the year party that Jamie always attended, even though she hated Sammi…but Sammi thought Jamie was the coolest person in the world and told her that she just had to sleepover if she came to the party. So she did. But it was worth it. She closed her eyes and imagined last night as if it were happening again.
She came in her super mini skirt and tight top, ready for the night. She was about twenty minutes late, which was perfect. Just about everybody was already there. There was music blasting and she danced with about 17different guys whose names she didn’t know and who she had barely ever seen. About less than two hours into the party, she convinced Sammi to start a game of 7 minutes in heaven. She knew it was lame, that’s why she told Sammi to start it. But she always loved playing that game. She had mastered it. She could play 3 minutes in heaven and get done more than what most people get done in 7...
She remembered hearing people last night counting down from 30 as she put her shirt back on and abandoned her bra. She felt freer without it anyway. Then, a few couples later, the bra was found and hung from the ceiling like a disco ball.
By the time Jamie was done remembering last night she found herself outside of Sammi Vega’s house with her fiery red hair flowing down her back, dressed in her skimpy black bikini, sunglasses on, condoms in bag.
*
Riley Sanderson screamed into her pillow out of frustration. Her red halter bathing suit was drenched in beer that her mom had spilled on her just as she was about to leave the house to go to the party. Her mother was drunk, yet again, early in the day. She finished all the vodka and had cracked open a case of beer.
“Shut up, Riley! I’ve got a splitting headache!” her mom called up to her.
Riley ran over to her door and called down to her mother. “Then why don’t you try PUTTING YOUR FREAKING DRINK DOWN???” She slammed the door.
“Do not speak to your mother like that, you little tramp,” she slurred.
“You’re no mother!” she shrieked back down and climbed out of her window, ready to sprint down to Kyle’s house for the party.
*
Rachael Wells was fat. Rachael Wells was ugly. Rachael Wells was pasty white. Rachael Wells was stupid. Rachael Wells was bad at everything. Rachael Wells wanted to be Taylor Simons.
“Taylor, it looks disgusting. I look like a monster. A giant chalky-white monster in a green bikini,” she talked into her phone while examining every speck of her being in the mirror.
“And I’m breaking out!” she shrieked. “Taylor, let’s switch lives, just for the party, okay?” she laughed, only half kidding.
Rachael heard music on the other end of the phone and knew Taylor had arrived at the party.
“I’ll see you there,” she mumbled, wishing she had the popularity of the bronze toothpick that everybody knew. She clicked off her phone and turned away from the mirror. She couldn’t bear to look at her disgusting unpopular self any longer. Hesitantly, she made her way out of her room and toward Kyle's house.

© Copyright 2008 Rayna Mack (megn93 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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