Ash embodied everything that I hate. At 16 she dropped out of school to go work on her own. To my dismay, she actually made good for herself. Now 18, she decides to pay me a visit every weekend to belittle me in front of my friends.

I'll be damned if she isn't strangely attractive though. Everyone has those people in mind that they can't stand and aren't quite sure why they find them so attractive. Ash was tall, standing just under my 6ft height. It used to be that she was stocky, maybe even a bit hefty, but hard work has been good for her. She's filled out nicely, with curves that would kill if she wasn't so intimidating. Her hair is a delightful mixture of butch and feminine perfection. It's short, but not too short, falling just above her shoulders, a bleached perfection. Her lips are also artful with their poutiness and fullness. If you were to trace her now slender thighs you'll find yourself staring at the most gaudy combat boots you've ever seen. She was subculture all the way. Don’t be imagining some butch bitch in military fatigues cracking a whip. Think rather of a woman who can really make the audacious combination of a flight jacket and a short skirt work.

I've certainly thought about fucking her in one of those soap opera love/hate romances. I'm sure the sex would be great. She seems to know a lot about it and reminds us with her sleazy stories. She showed us her tattoo of the butterfly around her labia one. I told her I thought it was cliché, but damn was it hot to look at it. It didn't help that she would pet at it, just hinting at what it was capable of. The sex would be hot, unrestricted, and un-conformed. I got half a stalk just thinking about it. She must have caught me staring that night, because she called me the next day.

"Stay home from school," she said at the wee hour of 4:30 in the morning. I had to be in school in 3 hours, a huge exam was waiting for me, and I couldn't believe her audacity. "So I can flunk out like you did, no way," I replied. I abruptly hung up on her. Five minutes later, she rang again, this time cooing, "Stay home, it will be worth it believe me." I hung up on her again and she didn't call back, but the more I got to thinking about it, the more I didn't want to be at school that day. Don't think I was staying home because she said to; I just needed a mental health day.

I decided to call her around 11:00 AM that day. "Why did you want me to stay home?" I asked. "Oh, you are home after all?" Returning my question with a question, a usual thing for her to do; I sighed, un-enthused. She hung up on me this time and I shrugged and went back to sleep for awhile, until I heard the doorbell ring.

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