Chapter 2 Party Crasher

Days go by, and the guy I met at the beach with the pretty green eyes doesn't cross my mind even once.

Well, until now.

I'm sipping on a glass of wine, the scarf my mother has draped around her neck the same shade of green as the beach stranger's eyes.

"Are you even listening to me, Harlynn?"

My mother's voice fills my ears. She's using her motherly voice, which means she's not very happy with me at the moment.

I blink away the images of the green-eyed fuckboy as my mother's rather youthful looking face fades into view.

She and I look so much alike that we are often mistaken for sisters. And it doesn't help that she had me at the age of seventeen and my sister Haley at twenty-two.

Don't even get me started on my father. I've lost count of how many women bit their lip, batted their lashes, or twirled their hair in his presence. They try so hard to be noticed, but my father only has eyes for my mother.

It's sweet, inspiring, and gross at the same time. I often want to hack up a hairball when I catch them kissing, flirting, or even suggesting sex.

I love them, but learning I was conceived in the back alley of a Starbucks was enough. I don't need the visuals as well.

"I'm sorry. What did you say, mom?"

She rolls her brown eyes and huffs. "Have you thought about what you want to do with your life?"

"No," I reply, stabbing my fruit salad with my fork. "I'm quite satisfied with my life."

I hate when my mother brings up my life as a topic of conversation. Both my parents know what I do for a living. And while my father supports my choice in occupation, my mother absolutely abhors it.

She doesn't care that I'm an escort. That's not the issue. It's the fact that I didn't use my business skills elsewhere. Like to run my own business like they do.

"Don't you want to be the boss of your own company, hon? You know, like me and your father?"

"No, I don't. That's your dream. Not mine."

"So you're planning to be an escort your whole life?"

"No, but I wish you would stop pressuring me."

She raises her hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'm sorry. You're right."

"Thank you."

My mother wanted me to go to college and have a career. She wanted me to rule beside her in the business world. But she knows that's not me and it never will be.

Now as for my sister, she chose a different path as well. Although she's currently in her first year of college, she's not a fan of the business world either. Which is why she's majoring in a field of her choice- Neuroscience. And I'd say that's pretty damn good for her.

I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I've always been indecisive. Whether it's making a life changing decision, or simply ordering at a fast food restaurant.

The only reason I'm even working as an escort is because the money is good. Rich men and women are the only people who require my services, so the checks I recieve usually come with a lot of zereos.

"So," my littler sister Haley starts to say, her tone of voice indicating that she wanted to ask our parents something. "There's this party tonight and I was wondering if I could go?"

"Where is it and will there be parental supervision?" Our father asked.

"Parental sup- dad, I'm eighteen years old. I'm not in high school anymore."

"I understand that, honey. But you know the rules."

"Well, what if Harlynn goes with me?" She suggests, looking over at me through her large circular glasses, a hopeful look in her blue eyes and a big grin on her face.

"No."

"Please Harls."

"What's in it for me?"

"Fifty bucks," she offers.

"Make it a hundred and you got yourself a deal."

****

Being at a college party surrounded by a bunch of immature frat boys is the last place I want to be. But I'm willing to endure it if it means I'll be able to keep an eye on my sister.

I hate parties. It doesn't matter if it's a birthday party, or a house party. Any party where I have to socialize with humans is hell on earth.

I've always been a homebody. My idea of fun is delving into a good book, binging one of my favorite shows, or smoking some high quality weed. Which doesn't require the company of anyone but me, myself, and I.

"Want some?" Haley asks, shoving a red solo cup with alcohol in my face.

"No thank you."

She shrugs, takes a sip of the alcoholic beverage, and crinkles her nose in response to the beer's taste.

I should be snatching the cup out of her hand and dumping it out in the sink as she is underage.

But I'm in no mood to play the responsible older sister. Besides, if she wants to get white girl wasted then so be it. Because even if she wakes up with the worse hangover of her life, she's still going to drink.

Now as for me, I hate the taste of beer. And any kind of alcohol for that matter. I'm a lightweight and I hate what I become when I drink.

Let's just say, I've had quite a few one night stands I'm not proud of.

Chugging the last of her beer, Haley tosses the empty cup into a nearby trash can before flipping her long dark hair and swaying to the music playing in the background.

She motions me to dance with her. I shake my head in refusal. She knows I'm not a dancer. She also knows that she isn't one either. But that doesn't stop her from breaking out into the robot.

Horrified of her dancing skills, or lack thereof, I cover my eyes. I occasionally peek through the space in between my fingers to check to see if she's still dancing.

"Are you done yet?"

"Almost," she says, making these weird robotic sounds with her mouth.

People are looking at her, most of them snickering and murmuring amongst one another.

But Haley doesn't care. Which is exactly what I taught her. She should never be afraid to be herself.

"Is that your sister?" A girl who approached me asked, looking my sister up and down.

"Is that your boyfriend making out with your best friend?" I question, mimicking her whiny, spoiled rich girl voice.

"Oh. My. God!" She cries, storming out into the backyard of the frat house where her boyfriend is currently locking lips with her supposed best friend in the pool.

Having heard the exchange between me and the whiny sorority sister, Haley stops dancing. "How did you know that was her boyfriend and best friend?"

"I'm very observant," I reply, which was the honest truth.

When you're in the escort business it's not only your job to accompany your client to whatever social event they choose, but to be aware of the people and its surroundings.

You don't want to accidently bump into another client while you are escorting another. You want that client to feel special, like they are the only one that matters. Because it's your job to not just make them look good but feel good too.

"No, I think you have too much time on your hands. When was the last time you had sex?" I glare at her. "It's a serious question, Harls."

"Last week."

"Well clearly it wasn't good if you're standing here watching everybody else have fun."

She's right. It wasn't good. I didn't come once. I would have faked it, but that would have been too much work. And besides, he needed to know he wasn't doing shit.

Fuck his pride and his feelings. I mean, what about me? I'm the one who is suffering. I haven't had good dick in well... ever!

I don't even know why I still give them the time of day. There are plenty of women out there who could have me orgasming back to back by the time a man finds my clit.

I rolled my eyes, no longer interested in this party and in this conversation. "Can we go now?"

"We just got here." She hooked her arm around mine, tugging me outdoors to play beer pong. "If you win, then we can go home. But if I win, you have to dance with me."

"Whatever. Prepare to lose, Hales."

"Oh you're so on, big sis."