The two-story log cabin was built facing south, in order to maximize the use of solar panels on the steeple roof. Three bedrooms, each with their own bath, one downstairs and two up. When it was first built actually left the upstairs open in a loft style, but when I came along they added walls and two bathrooms.
The downstairs was closed off, each room separated by a wall of matching mahogany. Nice big kitchen decorated in chrome and black, spacious living room dominated by a rarely used 72 inch television and black leather sectional, a dining room big enough to seat six or seven comfortably.
I was getting ready for school and disgruntled with my looks again. “Monica, I stick out like a sore thumb.” I said looking into the full-length mirror. My long curly red hair hanging limply down my back as it dried. I had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body when she came in to make sure I was up. “I really think I should die it…I think I would look good as a brunette don’t you?”
“Oh don’t do that, Mag-pie. Your hair is beautiful, it compliments those green eyes perfectly.” Monica fussed her fingers through my hair, lightly tousling it. I playfully swatted her hand away.
“But I’m the only ginger in a hundred mile radius! With the red hair comes the porcelain white skin, I turn into a lobster if I stay out in the sun too long. You and the other girls have a gorgeous tan.” I said envying her golden tan, a few shades lighter than her medium brown wavy brown hair.
“Magdalene, listen you are exotic compared to the rest of us. I am beautiful, but a dime a dozen; you are one, a diamond among pearls. Come on, let’s get ready to greet the freshman.” Monica said trying to reassure me that my Irish looks fit in with the other Middle America debutantes.
She went to her room to get out of her maroon silk robe, and I put on my favorite outfit for the first day of school. I grabbed a crisp white button down collared shirt, loosely knotted a black tie around my neck and a blue/green plaid mini skirt. I finished the outfit off with white knee-high socks and black/white saddle oxfords.
I observed my innocent schoolgirl image in the mirror, and decided to undo one more button. Not enough that I showed off my whole DD breasts, but enough cleavage to keep the guys guessing. I giggled to myself, applied my signature “Satan’s Sin” red lipstick to my pouty full lips and skipped out of my room and down the short hall to see what Monica decided to wear. “Knock, knock. I’m coming in.”
I entered her bedroom, which I accurately call the “Pepto-Bismol room,” without waiting for an answer. “Hey Sister Maria called, she wants her daughter’s outfit back.” Monica called from her walk-in closet.
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