#jennifer

You knew JENNIFER CHECK wasn’t going to love your Halloween costume

You knew the risk your costume presented this Halloween—you just didn’t care. As you adjusted the barely-there white fur over your butt and moved a strand of hair from in front of the little round ears you were wearing, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror by your bed. With barely enough fur to cover the illegal-to-expose parts of your body, and a dusting of baby pink across your cheeks, you were the cutest and most naked polar bear in the world.

Your admiration of yourself was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. A closed fist BANG BANG BANG, actually. Grabbing your sparkly red flip phone to toss in your bag, you realized you’d missed several calls from your girlfriend, something you’d definitely never hear the end of.

Jennifer’s leopard costume had a lot more clothes involved than yours did. She was more of a just-cleavage-out girl, which your eyes obviously found immediately when you opened the door to her.

“Can I get a sec before you start lezzing out?” Jen rolled her eyes, pushing past you into the entryway of your house. With a giggle, your eyes snapped away from her tits and to her face, which was perfect and visibly irritated with you.

She didn’t say anything for a sec as she reapplied her sticky lip gloss, drawing your eyes to the lilt of her lips and then the rest of her costume—a leopard catsuit with her favorite boots, a fresh manicure, and little cat ears perched on top of her blown-out hair.

“You look cute.” You offered with a grin, before she could crucify you for being half naked.

“Yeah—not like I’m working the corner, I hope.” She gave you a pointed look and laughed, though it was clearly at you and not with you, as she crossed her arms.

She was always like this when you dressed too skimpy. Jen never said anything if your skirt was too short, as long as you were wearing a long sleeve shirt; she never said anything if your shirt was too low-cut, as long as you were wearing jeans. It was all about balance, with her.

“It’s tight enough for that.” You pointed out. You could see the outline of her bra underneath it, and you swore you caught a glimpse of her g-string print in the back, though you hadn’t been lucky enough to get a longer look.

She just made a low noise in the back of her throat, kind of like a hmph, but more offended and less bratty. You were surprised she wasn’t giving you more trouble about this.

“Are you ready to go?”

She paused as she tucked her lip gloss back into her bag.

“You’re not really going out in that.”

Ah. There it was.

“It’s cute! Besides, if I get cold, we can take those Ghoul Gumdrop shooters from the bar—the ones you like so much. They’ll warm me up!”

Jennifer looked tempted by their mention, but it didn’t deter her, “Everybody’s gonna think you’re a slut…” She said it with a little grimace, like she was just letting you know for your own good, and not like she was going to be the one calling you that.

You pouted slightly, taking a couple steps towards her in the hallway. She didn’t move away, but her piercing blue eyes were unrelenting in their gaze.

“Come on, Jen. You know I’ll be with you the whole night. No one will even be looking at me, they’ll be too focused on youuuu.” You said it in a singsong voice, and saw her eyes narrow a little bit as she considered it.

While she thought, you leaned in to press a little kiss on her lips, and she let you. Her sticky pink lipgloss messed up your polar bear makeup almost instantly, but you didn’t mind as her lips softened against yours and you were met with her familiar smoky, cherry flavor—one you were practically addicted to by now. When you pulled away from her, she looked much more convinced.

“If that geek from your film class is looking at you again, I’ll totally go all Michael Myers on his ass,” she huffed.

“I know.” You said with a little smile.

After a pause, she gave you a kiss back, one that lasted a little bit longer than it should’ve from someone who was allegedly too embarrassed to be seen with you.

“Whatever.” She conceded begrudgingly, and you failed to conceal your grin as she stomped back over to the door, pulling it open to head out to her mom’s Sebring for the party. “Just get in the car before it hits midnight and that dumb costume turns back into a radish or whatever.”

You practically floated down the stairs behind her.

Plastic Coast, pages 220-221