Come on, brat! Put some clothes on, for Christ’s sakes!
“So… What’s the deal?”
“Deal?” And stop fucking snapping that bubblegum. Next bubble will be the death of you…
“Yeah. That chick told me to look up this skiff, and here I am.”
“That chick was my wife. Who failed to inform me that we would be giving a ride to some kid.”
“Hey! I’m not a kid!” Yeah. Right. What are you? Fifteen? And put some fucking clothes on!
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Your wife. Where did she go?”
“We had to leave in a hurry from Mars, and we forgot something. She went to see if they have it here in sale.” You have backpack with you. There has got to be some clothes. Put them on! Even Marie wouldn’t get out in that getup!
“You still haven’t told me what’s the deal.”
“Deal? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come on! There has to be a reason you agreed to give me a ride. What is it? Wife isn’t keeping you warm enough?” Jesus Christ! What’s the matter with this chick?
“You made your deal with her. Why don’t you wait until she returns and ask what she was planning? Now scoot. I have work to do.” Move. Now. And stop fucking with that bubblegum.
“She sure is taking her time…”
“We have been in the space for two weeks already. I’d imagine she’s enjoying her freedom.” And stop talking.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Yes. I’m positive.
“I don’t do little kids.”
“I’m not a kid!”
“Yes, you are. Go. Put some clothes on. Play with your dolls or something. I really have to get this done before we leave.”
“I have clothes on!” What ever. Get the fuck out of my face!
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Giving you a backrub.”
“Hands and tits off from my back.”
“I’m bored!”
“Do I look like I care?”
“No. But you look like you could use a good fu…”
“Fuck off, squirt. I’m not interested.”
“My name is not squirt.”
“It will soon be ‘the-dead-chick-who-didn’t-know-when-to-shut-up’…”
“You’re not a nice guy.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know…” Please. Don’t. Just shut your mouth and go put some clothes on. What the hell was Marie thinking when she sent her here?
“Cindy.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Cindy.”
Blonde. Is there some kind of freaking law about those as well? Do they all have to be brainless, gum-bubbling creatures named Cindy? Do they all have to be equipped with boobs big enough to suffocate them if they fall on their back? And do they all have to be so goddamned stupid? And make a beeline straight at my crotch as soon as I dare to show my face?
As soon as Marie gets back here I’m going to ask her what the fuck did I do before the lab. It must have been something awful. And this is my penance. To haul a horny teenager across half of the fucking space.
“So, Cindy… Think you could dig up some decent clothes from that backpack of yours?” Because truth to be told, joke is getting old. I can see her fucking nipples through that blouse she’s wearing, and I don’t need very active imagination to find out what’s hiding under that skirt of hers. All she has to do is to move, and I can tell she’s not a real blonde.
“No.”
“No?” She has got to be shitting me. There’s no way she’s planning to hitch a ride in that outfit.
“I didn’t have the time to grab any clothes when I left.” Runaway?
“What’s in there?”
“Some books and my laptop.” She had enough time to grab those, but no time or sense to throw in shirts and trousers?
“You have pretty fucked up priorities, kid.”
“That’s what he used to say all the time… Look. If this... If my clothes are bothering you, maybe your wife could borrow me something more… Decent?” Not maybe. She will. She will, if I have anything to say about it. Actually…
“I’ll go and get you something more comfortable to wear, okay?”
Better. Couldn’t find anything from Marie. She’s not as… Equipped around chest area as Cindy, and Cindy has all over more flesh on her bones. My shirt’s a little too big, goes past her knees, but the more of her is covered, the better we get along. Now that I can actually concentrate to talk to her and I don’t have to think about not staring at her nipples. And mind out of the gutter now. I’m no pervert, but I’m a man.
Funny. She turned awfully shy as soon as she got some clothes on. She’s actually blushing. Cute.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I… Your wife promised that you could take me to the next outpost…”
“Yeah, yeah… But what the hell does a kid like you do out there alone?” Spit it out.
“I haven’t been a kid in years. My parents… They didn’t want me, so they sold me to this guy…” Fuck.
“I wasn’t a hooker. Not like that. He needed me to help around the house. Cleaning, doing dishes, that kind of stuff. But I heard him talking to some of his friends last night. They were going to have a party today. I heard them talking about how I was old enough… And things they wanted to do to me…” Oh, crap…
“Okay, kid. You got yourself a deal. Don’t harass me, stay quiet, do as you’re told to, and at the next decent outpost we’ll look for you a place to stay.”
Marie, you better get here soon. Before I ask where that asshole lives.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Blond readers should not take this as an insult directed towards them. Except if you're my classmate. Which I highly doubt.