American library books ยป Fiction ยป If I'm Good For Anything by K.B.F. (books to read in your 20s female .TXT) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซIf I'm Good For Anything by K.B.F. (books to read in your 20s female .TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   K.B.F.



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was spent with him, or thinking of him. He was my best friend, and my sweetheart. On graduation night he told me he wanted to go to a party. It was to be the biggest one all year. I told him he could go, with a frown. We ended up sitting by my pool with a blanket, and leftover party cake. I knew there was no one in the world Nolan would rather be with, and I couldnโ€™t have felt any different.
Our diplomas sat neatly on our dressers, our gowns hung unwashed in our closets. Our bags were packed, and we were ready to take what we believed to be the trip of a lifetime.
Senior trip is a tradition of under aged, and overly excited kids heading out on their own into the great big world. Kids just wanting to see life for the first time in a true light. Unfortunately, it is usually tinted in hues of Miller Light and splattered with vomit. Nolan and I had other ideas in mind.
It was five oโ€™ clock in the morning. Although we only had a few hours of sleep the night before, we had spent weeks planning this trip. We couldnโ€™t wait to get on the road. With John Mayer on the radio we pulled out from my driveway hand in hand. I was so excited I couldnโ€™t sit still. Nolan was already asleep in the passenger seat. I laughed, and pushed the pedal down a little further.
The mountains were beautiful. It was hard to imagine that we had been passing the sky rises of Atlanta only a couple of hours before. Instead of pitching the tent right away as we had planned, we parked the car and changed into our swim suits. The water was calling to us through the hot summer sun. We rented inner tubes from the old man at the check-in desk, and ran to hit the river. We ended up floating ten miles that day, talking and laughing the entire time. When we reached the last mile, we trudged out of the water to find that our front sides were the color of a ripened cherry, and our backs still as white as a fishโ€™s belly. We hitched a ride back to the campground in the back of someoneโ€™s truck. We made out the whole way. When we got back we lit a fire and debated the effort against the value of smores. I said I was too tired, and Nolan agreed. Not bothering to pitch the tent we laid out our sleeping bags and threw some more wood on the fire. I fell asleep in his arms that night, knowing thatโ€™s where Iโ€™d be every night for the rest of my life.
The next morning, I woke up to see that Nolan had been watching me sleep. He smiled, and brushed the hair out of my face. I kissed him, and shivered. The sun had not risen above the tree tops, and the fog had not lifted. His eyes were somewhat different that morning. It was as if they had been guarding something all along, and now in the purest of green, they were opening up to me. Almost pleading me to seek something deeper than just a clichรฉ romance. Something long lasting, and worth while, something life changing. There was one thing I could never do to Nolan, and that was deny him. Willingly, I pulled the covers over our head.
โ€œI love you.โ€
โ€œI love you too.โ€


Chapter 8
There is something about the beach that makes you feel carefree. Like a child. There are no finances, or alarm clocks when lying in the sand. Ones only responsibility is to wear enough sun screen, and the only ambition is to find the perfect shell. I donโ€™t want to return to reality. I donโ€™t want to face the ugly world with itโ€™s harsh concrete coating and gasoline after taste. The sky is painted with swirls of pearly white, and the water a collection of blues. This sand, these sounds, are a beautiful dream. The rhythmic sound of wind, and waves alleviates my worries. I never want to leave.

College life was everything I had ever imagined. Nolan and I made sure to take advantage of every freedom available to us. We signed up for all the same classes, and began looking at apartments. We made good friends with a couple of kids we had gone to high school with. They were going to be our roommates. Nolan came to work with me at the Crayfish Lodge as a bus boy. We spent every waking, and sometimes sleeping, moment together. I felt as if nothing had ever been better, or could ever be better than this exact time in my life, and I think now, maybe I was right.
Nolan and I would stay up for hours just talking about what it would be like to live together. We even entertained the thought of moving away. He wanted to join the military badly. His dream was to become an air traffic controller through the United States Air Force. I was selfish. I didnโ€™t want to see him go. It seemed as if my dissatisfaction with the idea had completely voided any consideration left in his mind. He continued going to class with me.
When Nolan and I werenโ€™t in class, or working, we were looking for trouble. I think then it was easier to call it an adventure. It made us feel mature, in charge, to throw back a few or smoke a cigar. Conjuring up our next party spot became somewhat of an unspoken challenge. We began at a dance club. I donโ€™t think I had ever had as much fun as the night we shut down a club in the middle of Atlanta. I swear we were the only white people there. Once we snuck into a water park, and smoked weed before taking on the tallest slide in Georgia. I locked the keys in the car that day. We were too high to call the police so I paid one hundred dollars for a locksmith. We laughed the whole way home.
Eventually our escapades turned sour. One night after work we met up with a few guys and decided to head into downtown. I was ready for whatever the city had to offer. I was three shots of tequila into the night when Nate, one of our potential roommates, suggested we check out a strip club. Being the only girl in the group, and not wanting to ruin the fun, I felt pressured to be cool, and say โ€œyesโ€.
I could tell from the exterior that the place was a dump. The building was falling apart, and the once neon sign only burned the first three letters. โ€œBooโ€ it read. It does look scary. The parking lot was packed with cars. We passed a truck on the way in with fogged up windows. The engine started, and rumbled. I coughed as we passed through a wave of smoke rolling from the driverโ€™s side window.
โ€œCouldnโ€™t you find a less diseased one?โ€ I teased.
โ€œNone of us are twenty-one,โ€ Nate replied, โ€œThis is the only one eighteen, and up in the whole city.โ€
โ€œDandy.โ€ I felt sick. I looked over at Nolan and swallowed hard. He was smiling.
I felt a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. I knew what I was doing was wrong. As the acid turned, I ignored the voice in my head telling me to turn around. As we walked through the entrance of the club a group of middle-aged men passed us laughing, one of them was Mr. Richard. When they were gone we proceeded up to the desk outside of the door. We stood quietly in a perfectly filed line as if waiting to get into the gym, or the library. I felt strange. I could see people moving in front of the tiny window in the doors beside the desk. The music was loud, and the smoke was thick. It was my turn to get a wristband. The man looked at me and chuckled. I couldnโ€™t figure out if he thought it was humorous to see a female, or because I looked twelve. I chalked it up to both as I made my way through the swinging doors.
For a moment I forgot that I had entered with my friends. I felt alone, and stunned. I had never seen another female naked, and here were at least ten in front of me at once. At the center of the room was a stage with a pole, and a long walkway. A black girl was doing โ€œtricksโ€, next to her danced a younger white girl wearing part of a police uniform. Surrounding the stage were multiple tables. Most of the chairs were full, but there was an empty booth at the back of the club. We agreed with nods to head that way. A blonde girl touched my arm, and asked if I cared for a drink. I was a little embarrassed to find that she was topless. I looked at the floor.
โ€œIโ€™ll take a water, thanks.โ€
It was only when we got to the booth that I remembered Nolan. He was quiet, and withdrawn. He wouldnโ€™t hold my hand. I needed a distraction so I took out a cigar, and began to inhale deeply wishing for a quick buzz. Almost immediately we were approached by a short brunette. She was ignored, and then practically waved away by one of the guys sitting uncomfortably close to me. I was repulsed. These girls were being treated as dispensable commodities. The waitress arrived with my drink. I was relieved to have another distraction and took a sip immediately. Finally a girl made her way to the table that the surrounding men approved of, and they ushered her onto the table. The next song began, and she started to dance. I tried to ignore the disgusting comments rolling out of the others mouth like the smoke I attempted to consume myself in. I was also trying to ignore the fact that the girls boobs were hanging out now by looking above her head. It was then that I noticed something even more disturbing than the nudity. Her face was cold. Like a statue found on top of a long-standing mausoleum. The corners of her mouth were turned down. I donโ€™t think I had ever actually seen someone frown like that. It didnโ€™t seem natural, or real, like a sad cartoon. Her eyes were empty, isolated. She finished stripping, and began to shake her ass in the boys faces, her expression never changing. I looked away. I burned with shame, and guilt. I looked to Nolan to tell him I was leaving, and froze. His eyes were glazed over, his mouth partially open. It was as if he was someone else, someone I did not recognize. I slid passed he, and Nate practically running back to the car.
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