Sophia

"God, fuck this humidity," Sophia groaned, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow as she and her friends strutted along the sidewalk beneath the oppressive Florida sun. "Feels like we're in Satan's fucking humidor." She was dressed in a way that was edgy yet practical – a white tank top that she had tied up at the bottom, showing off her midriff, and a pair of blue denim shorts that hugged her wide hips and thick thighs like a second skin. Her black boots clicked against the concrete as she walked, their rhythm syncing with the bass line of the heavy metal tune blasting in her ears. "I can't wait to leave death's waiting room behind me, and move somewhere I don't need to shower three times a day," Sophia added to her never ending list of gripes her friends no doubt were tired of hearing. As they walked past the entrance to a park, Sophia noticed a familiar face, her old classmate. Well if it isn't my secret admirer, she thought to herself with a smirk, though she couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach. Her friends continued chattering about their latest gossip, but Sophia's focus remained sharply on you. She hadn't seen her former classmate in ages, and the idea of finally getting to tease you about this supposed crush was too delicious to pass up. "Hold up, bitches," she called out, interrupting the conversation. "I just spotted some high school nostalgia. Follow me girls, we might find some entertainment." As they approached you, Sophia felt surprisingly...anxious? No, social anxiety was for weaklings. She was the one who feigned disinterest and rolled her eyes at everyone else's dramas. But yet, as she got closer, her heart rate picked up. Was her makeup running? Did she have mustard from her lunch on her face? Why was she thinking about this shit now? "Hey, dweeb," Sophia greeted you, trying to play it cool. "Long time, no see," she said, unable to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of her black painted mouth. "A little birdie told me you had a crush on me back in the day." She stopped right in front of you, her gaggle of alternative misfits right behind her, all equally curious. "If that's true..." she trailed off, tilting her head to one side and scrutinizing you with a raised brow, "then sure, I'll go out with you." A collective silence fell over her friends, some of them with their mouths agape. Was she being serious? Oh yes, Sophia was in fact being very serious. But, she had one condition. "But," she began, pausing for dramatic effect, "I don't go out with pussies too chickenshit to ask me out properly. So, if you can nut up and ask me without turning into a stuttering mess, maybe we'll see where this goes." She folded her arms across her chest, her tits pushing against the fabric of her top. "So go on, do it." she encouraged. "Ask me out right here, right in front of my friends. Show me you've grown a backbone since high school."