I'd always believed myself to be a hard heart, I was someone who believed in sticking up for the people who couldn't watch their own backs, the ones who tucked their tails between their legs and went scampering off at the sniff of danger.
My friends call me the Terminator; made of steel and leaving a whirlwind of trouble behind every unfortunate soul that would give me the sneaky looks from the corners of their eyes, scoffing at the vibrant purple dip dyed locks of my black waist length ringlets, and the lacey tattoo curling round my left ear like a vintage statement. I had no piercings, but I'm sure I left a lot of the dick thinking population licking their lips in wonder of any hidden nooks.
I glanced up at the silver clock of freedom hanging just above the front row of desks from beneath my thick black lashes, feeling the heaviness of the black liquid eyeliner on my eyelids that brought out the light hazel of my eyes, and sighed like a woman in great distress.
It sounded more strangled and grumbly than I'd intended and I received a quick questioning glance from our examiner before he shook his head and resumed marking his papers. Yeah, that's right, fear me whip cracker. I did a little witchy cackle in my head and almost cracked a grin, I was the only one who understood myself and my delicious humor.
What humor, right?
Rupert was tapping his foot against the metal of the table behind me, and I almost snapped the pencil in my hand restraining myself from turning around and smacking him into Christmas. He was a complete fucktard and believed he was the funniest fucker on the planet. The bitch needs his balls strung and shoved up his ass. When you're star player of the Rugby team, everything comes easy.
And yes, I'm talking about vaginas as well as handouts.
"Hey ass wipe, do you mind?" I nodded at his foot, "I'm trying to pick my brain for the answers to this shitty test," I practically snarled at Rupert, my eyes narrowed to the brink of blinking. He scoffed and gave me the bird.
"Wow, I applaud your endless low grade insults. Shut the fuck up." He put his hands together and bowed his head like something out of a Jackie Chan movie. Now, you're probably thinking this is some kind of jock hates goth story. Wrong, this shit for brains is my brother.
He's so retarded, he's failed this test three times. And it's the entrance exam. The piece of piss exam you take to get into college. I didn't even want to go to college, I was quite content working my shifts in the bustling cupcake shop my friend Anwen owned. It was my god damn mams fault I was sitting here.
"Nora, don't be a waste of space potato like your father," She scolded, arms braced across her chest like an intimidating soldier, "Go to college, do your damn A Levels and blossom into a beautiful intelligent woman. Somewhat."
She's lucky she's my mam or else I would have rammed her face into the grill. I think my dad picked up his newspaper so he could cry behind it.
Yes, she wore the trousers, just like every other woman in the family. See, it's not my fault I'm the way I am, I blame my mam for making me the classless tough bitch I grew into.
I was the child who got Action Man figures and tanks, with huge ass canons to stick barbies heads in I'd savagely ripped off . I used to chase my brother round the house with Action Man/Barbie abonimations I'd glued together. Once Action Man had a cannon for a dick.
The smile that graced my face was genuine, I was really soft hearted for my family, even if we did torment each other endlessly, the sibling and parental love was strongly there. Rupert had really failed the exams purposely, he wanted to focus solely on his rugby career but didn't dare tell mam that, she'd drown him in the kitchen sink.
I'd just ticked the answer to the last question when the timer on the examiners desk wailed like one of Ruperts bitches breaking a nail. I ran my hands through my hair and let out another sigh, this one of relief, feeling quite positive I'd pretty much aced the test.
I turned to Rupert and he gave me a massive grin along with a thumbs up, the signal that he had answered every single question wrong. I rolled my eyes and made a hanging gesture and pointed at my imaginary watch. He shook his head and smiled lazily, rubbing his eyes and it was only then I'd noticed the heavy red rings around them.
"Oh my god, are you stoned!?" I whispered harshly, standing up with my paper and walking around to him.
"I shared a spliff with Meaty about an hour ago, this test is so fucking annoying and it drags like saggy tits," I chocked on a rising fit of laughter and almost spurted spit all over him. The examiner coughed before asking for our papers and promptly wished us a good day whilst showing us the door, "Want a lift home?"
"I'm covering Lotties shift so I have to go straight to the shop," I gestured towards the bus stop, and gave a half hearted smile, "I'm going the other way. You better sober up before mam sees you or she'll spoon your guts out from down your throat."
I gave a malicious grin as he gulped and looked genuinely worried, "Yeah, whatever. Go fuck yourself."
And with that he jogged towards his car before I could swing my bag at his massive noggin. Who said sibling love had to be all rainbows and puppy dogs.
"What the fuck is this, it tastes like alien shit!" I grimaced back from the cupcake as if it was really a turd in disguise and screwed my face up at Anwen. She sighed and plopped herself down behind the counter of cakes on display, her short bobbed caramel hair falling down after her like a halo and framing her small blue eyes, "Maybe alien shit was a bit strong, I'm sorry."
She laughed like a totally demented psycho, throwing her head back and holding her chest.
"Sorry, you just come out with some weird shit." I stared at her as if she had grown three heads.
"I do? I never noticed." I really didn't, I swear.
"That was a chocolate and curry cupcake," no wonder it tasted like some kind of foreign crap, "I thought I'd try something different, I mean everyone says curry and chocolate tastes nice together…"
"I thought it was chilli and chocolate." I was sure it was, chilli Doritos and melted chocolate, mm, mm, mmmmmm.
"Oh well that's just fucking great." And with that she walked through the western style flaps into the kitchen, probably sulking like the little madam she is. Don't get me wrong, I love Anwen, but when she gets something wrong, she's the whiniest little bitch in the whole of England. And you hear about it for days after.
Sometimes I go home and want to stick a fork in my eye.
The annoying little bell above the door tinkered, letting me know that a customer had entered. I ran my hands through my hair to fan it out and straightened the ridiculous blue tee, the logo 'Anwens Cupcake Delights' printed on a wavy banner across my 38D breasts. Yes, those are my proudest assets, I love these bad boys.
I'd assumed whoever it was would browse the counters circling the room before bothering me.
Until said person coughed right behind me. I swear I felt every little grimy germ latch on to the back of my neck as I turned around, god damn fucking greasy-
Holy crap, who is this handsomely, stubbly, muscular Adonis of a man… IN A BLACK SKILLET T-SHIRT!
Has my soul mate finally beamed down from another plannet?
"I want a cupcake," he simply said, eyeing my curvaceous form from beneath hooded lids. Right then, I felt naked. It was as if he could see my birthday suit even hidden behind the frumpy work uniform. For a minute I just stood there with a gormless looks on my face until he spoke again, "Are you incompetent or just stupid?"
I jumped back as if he had just leaned over the counter and slapped me in the face. His shaggy dark brown hair licked at the side of his cheeks in vicious layers, the jagged wild untamed bangs on his forehead dipping ever so slightly across his eyes.
"Excuse you, but as you can see if you lift your perverted dirty eyes from my breasts…unless YOU are incompetent, surrounding you is a wide variety of cupcakes, so to just ask for one when we sell tens of different flavours is just plain stupid." Inside I did a little jump and clicked my heels together, serves you right you arrogant prick. I leaned over the counter, raising one side of my lip into a half smile "Now, what kind of cupcake would you like?"
A golden shadow loomed over the once green hues of his eyes, and if I didn't have a screw loose in my head I'd of said they almost glowed ominously. It was frightfully beautiful.
"You're a spunky little bitch aren't you." He narrowed his eyes, smirking as I smiled.
"That's the nicest compliment anybody's ever given me," I wiped a fake tear from my cheek and pressed my hand against my chest, "Just for that, I'll give you one of our brand spanking new cupcakes, they were just baked hot and fresh today. I highly recommend them. This one's on the house."
I acted as natural as humanly possible as I put the curry and chocolate cupcake from the silver plate beside me in a pretty pink box with a pretty pink bow and handed it to him. Oh how manly he would look walking the streets with this little beauty.
Wait till he took a bite of this monstrous invention. Muahahaha.
I handed him the box with a sickly sweet smile and almost thought he had seen through me when he eyed the box suspiciously, but of course, the great actress I am, his hand reached out for the box slowly. I felt his warm fingers touch mine, they were callous as if he worked in hard labour. Then I heard a loud rumble and almost pissed my pants. It sounded like there was a fucking animal in the shop.
"Um…" I was literally lost for words when I locked gazes with the beautifully feral man. This wasn't me, I was the Terminator for fucks sake. Bring on that animal, I'll chase the bastard thing out, where's my huge ass sweeping brush!?
"You look like you're about to shit yourself." With that and a last single empty gaze up and down my figure, he turned and walked out the door.
Who the eff was that? His face was burned into my brain like a hot stoke on coal and I couldn't wait till he tasted that poopy cupcake.