Somebody To LoveA Chapter by Julie SpadeMay I ask you girls a question? Even though I
just did, I have another one for you. How in the hell do you survive having long
set of hair covering your face? You girls make it look so simple but in reality
it’s as difficult as a math equation! Do you girls know how much it annoys me
when my hair gets into my eyes while I’m peacefully trying to study? No, I
guess you girls don’t! I have barely survived nine months without
cutting my extremely long, light brown colored hair. It’s been driving ME nuts,
I try to flip it to the side but then it somehow comes right back, slapping me
in the face. It is so long that my hair passes my nose, almost an inch from my
mouth! I could put scrunches in my hair if I wanted to! Maybe I should stop complaining and keep it
for a “punkish” kind of look? Get a nose ring for myself and cut a huge hole
through my ears and get a few piercings on my eyebrow! I laugh at that picture
in my head; my hair is too much of a light color for the “scene” look anyway. I
gaze at myself through the long, walled blue mirror. My god, it is too damn
long! I have the hugest urge to grab a scissor to cut my own hair! I strangely begin
to hear my mother’s voice through my head cut
that damn hair, Adam! I could braid your hair if I wanted to! Maybe my mom is right; I do look like a girl after all, well... that is what my folks say. I question myself
again; maybe it won’t be that bad?
It’ll be done in two seconds; at most! Just a few snips and I am out of there
before I know it! I
consider my mom’s “voice” and her plea. I jump out of my bunk-bed. I rapidly
scan around my dorm room and it has
looked exactly the same as it always been; Wii remotes all over the place,
unfinished beer, my dirty underwear, my dirty clothes all over the floor and my
books piled up on my old wooden desk. I’m
not much of drinker, that’s why I never finish it. My dirty underwear and dirty
clothes all over the place is kind of a self-explanatory situation; I’m too
lazy and I don’t own a clothes basket. As shameful as this may sound, I don’t
even know how to run a washing machine! It’s not like I was born in a rich
house hold or anything, but my mom always treated me like a baby! I fish through my wallet and find nothing;
nothing but a sealed up condom and a nickel. Great! I am f*****g broke; AGAIN!
I am too afraid to ask my roommate, Kyle, for money because we aren't even that
close. We just greet one another and make sure we say our farewells, but that’s
mainly it. The odd thing of it all is
that he never sleeps in our dorm; he’s always sleeping over at his girlfriend’s
house or simply sleeping with some other b***h that is available for him. Oh
well, it’s not my problem! He can
sleep with the whole universe; I don’t really care. The thought of Kyle and my
unclean room distracts me from what I need to do and that is to...
1.
Get
my devilish mom off my dick and to stop bitching! 2.
Fly
to the salon with my Adam “powers” and to somehow get my hair magically cut for
free! Sounds like a great plan to me! Yes, I have asked your question, I am
being a sarcastic dick. Happy?
Ring, ring, ring! Speak of the devil; it’s my crazy and chaotic
mother! Before you go into your crazy predictions, understand this! My mom
seriously hunted me down like a slick snake searching for its prey on the dirty
brown colored grass; in simpler words, she stalked me on Facebook. She
evaluated my Facebook profile inside and out. I recently updated my profile and
took a picture of my long hair, WORST MISTAKE EVER MADE! She literality
collapsed from her chair from having a laughter attack and not being able to
stop. For months and for months she’s been putting this all over my Facebook
wall and pictures, “I never knew I had two daughters!” Jesus Christ, doesn’t she understand that I
am 18 years old? I can decide whether or
not I need a cut! I am an adult, well …sort of. Suddenly, my door is literality butchered with
my mom’s impatient knuckles. “Here take this $20 bill and please cut that
horse tail off your head!” My mom isn't a very timid sort of woman or an
emotional sort of mom; I mean if she thinks something’s ugly…she WILL tell you.
“Mom, I’m sorry…” I am quite embarrassed that
my mom had to come all the way here just to give her irresponsible child some
money. “Oh, Adam, it’s fine. I knew you had to be
broke ‘cause you know how cheap your father is. He only gave you $40 dollars to
last a whole month!” “Um...I’m sorry. I-I-I didn't mean to waste-” “Say no more, Adam! Just go get that damn
haircut ‘cause you need it!” As my mom is finishing her statement she nods her
head in a very serious way; she acts as if though she were in the army. “Okay, Mama.” I agree with my mother’s
statement. I haven’t seen my mom in months! It’s fun to drink and to f**k
around at home but sometimes; it gets pretty dull and boring around here. I guess
it’s because I don’t really have as many friends as I would like to have. This
thought gives me a sharp and depressive feeling. The memory of me being alone
in this dorm strangely wants me to be emplaced on my mother’s lap to feel warm
and protected. I embrace my mom surprisingly tight; I haven’t hugged my mom for
years! It gives her quite of a shock. I recall the last time I hugged my mom when
I won the 6th grade’s annual spelling bee and I won 1st
place. “Err. Dear, as much as I would love to hug you
all day,” my mom smiles with her eyes and kisses my hair. “YOU NEED TO GET YOUR GOD-DAMN HAIR DONE! Your
hair is all over the place! Go change into something nice, Adam. I want you to
get out by 9:30 and if you don’t, god be my witness, you will be placed on my
knee and I’m going to’ smack the living hell outta’ you,” My mom stares at me
with her brown eyes wide, sticking her hands out towards my face. “What are you gawking at me for? Get your butt
ready!” Mother walks towards my dorm door and stares at me once more. When my
mama looks at you AGAIN, that means s**t just got real. She heads out and
closes the door behind her. I exhale; I didn’t even realize I was holding my
breath. That woman still scares me till’ this day. As I take off my shirt quickly; happiness
fills my empty heart. Mama, she’s here, she is here to make me laugh and to
make me feel loved once again. I look inside of my wooden drawers and I randomly
grab one of my favorite Pink Floyd shirts. I suddenly, feel a breeze of embarrassment
since I happened to just notice that I was in my underwear! My mom didn’t even
tell me I had no pants! It shocks me in a way because my mom notices
everything! I wear my usual jeans that are someone washed-out. I have been
wearing this since 12th grade if I’m not mistaken. My jeans are a
little wrinkly, I would iron it, but I have no clue how to. What a shame. I
grab my black converse, since it is the only pair of shoes I’ve owned since
I’ve moved here. It’s kind of dirty, maybe I should wash it but then again I
don’t want it to become brown. I quickly brush my teeth and notice it is 9:28.
It’s not that I’m afraid of my mom kicking my a*s it’s just I wouldn’t want my
mom complaining the whole car ride saying, “Adam, what if I get hit by a car?
What if some black guy comes and shoots me in head? What if some guy a strange
man comes forward to me and asks to see the back of my trunk and knocks me
unconscious and actually puts me in MY tuck? Don’t you think about these
things! And also if a car came by and hit me my beautiful car would be ruined
because of YOUR tardiness!” I picture my mom going on and on and ON! I don’t
need that right now, I just need to kiss my mom’s so I won’t get on her bad
side. Time to go! “Mom, you’re not going to go enter the salon
with me, are you?” I asked nervously. “Look, at my baby boy, all grown up! You don’t
need your old mama no more!” She glances towards me and a mask of sadness
covers my mothers’ face. She wishes she could walk inside of the salon with
hand- and-hand with me. She wishes she could waltz into the salon and to
enlighten the stylist on how my hair should be done. “Mom, look, I just don’t want old guys to hit
on you, again alright? Don’t start with the self-pity crap. You know that I
love you with all of my being.” Don’t
look at me like I’m the bad guy okay some of this statement is true but reality
hits, I’m just embarrassed of my mom! Sorry, that I am a human being! Sorry,
that I don’t want to walk into a salon with my mother, knowing that I am 20
years old! I just don’t want my mom to call 9-1-1 if the hair stylist cuts my
hair too “quickly”. “Oh, Adam, your right, I am a married woman!
No man should ever be staring at me, but, what, they can’t keep their eyes off
of me!” My mom suddenly feels better about herself and the mask of sadness has
disappeared from my mother’s face. As my mom turns here and there, I just can’t stop looking at the view. I stare out of my window and there are just so many people walking along the streets of New York. I need to walk around on those streets because I never have. I live in New York, but not in the city. My college dorm is 30 minutes away from here, so, the chance of me walking by here would just be slim. I start to wonder off with my imaginations and I picture myself holding hands with the hottest girl in class. All i need is Somebody To Love and i'm set for the rest of my life. Dream On, Adam. My mom gently shakes me, I was so stuck on my inner thoughts that I didn’t even notice we were here all ready. “Here we are, Adam! I love this place; they
have got the sweetest people here so you won’t have a bad experience. Call me
when you’re back home, Okay, Darling?” “No, Adam, I can’t. Your sister, Kayla, has a
soccer tournament right now and I’ve missed 50 minutes of it! She’ll be so mad
at me!” “Sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to take your time.” “Adam, I will always have time for you and
your sister.” The atmosphere between us
is suddenly awkward. My mom never gets “deep” or anything like that. She just
simply cuts to the chase. “Adam, do not get a god-awful haircut because
I will smack the livin’ hell outta’ you because you need a girl. ASAP!” I nod
my head at my mom and I step out of the car. The place looks extremely full
from the inside. I glance back at my mom and she is literality yelling in the
car GO, GO, GO! I turn around and I
gulp. I get nervous very easily, which, I don’t know why. I don’t like walking
into a huge group of people because I feel like their eyes are daggering into
my soul. As I open the heavy glass door, a little bell
sounds. No one seems to notice me, thank
god. I grab a seat on the black leathered sofa that is closest to the glass
door. It smells like burned hair and expensive shampoo. I find myself staring
at the floor, I find myself doing that a lot because I don’t like making eye
contact with anyone. I dare myself to look up, what a big mistake I did. It is like f*****g GAY city in here. All the
workers are men and they are all wearing tight black shirts matching with black
skinny jeans. The whole salon is covered in pink walls, blue tables and three
leather sofas. It is also filled with guy models with blazing brown eyes and a
sexy hairstyle. Only two girl model pictures were way in the back with the same
qualities as the guy models; sexy, fit and a gorgeous hairstyle. Why would my
mom ever bring me to a place like this? “Hey, cutie, you need to check in.” He
insists. He is tall, fit and very good-looking. I stared upon him before I sat
down, but that was just a split second. I didn’t know a man on this earth could
be so beautiful. Suddenly, a woman starts staring at me; I can see it from the
corner of my eye but don’t pay attention; I don’t think someone could actually
say that to me, let alone a GUY! I continue on staring at the floor minding my
own business. He’s probably talking to one of his co-workers or something. Or
maybe he’s talking to one of kids playing and running all over the place! No
one’s ever called me cutie, ever; except for my overly protective mom! He
couldn’t be talking to me, no way. The worker repeats it again, louder this time.
I can feel him staring at me and yelling over the counter. My heart starts
racing, could he be really talking to me? I repeat to myself he isn’t talking to you, he isn’t talking to
you, he IS NOT talking to you. A young
and attractive woman suddenly grabs on my shoulder extremely hard up to the
point that her nails darted into my skin. She then points at the worker with a
disgusted face. Couldn’t she just tap me or something? Doesn’t this a*****e of
a lady understand that I’m not used to guys calling me a cutie? “This man has been calling you for hours! Wake
up!” He beautiful features suddenly become the features of an old witch. She
could have tapped me or something! But no, she had to yell at me like I was her
f*****g slave… WELCOME TO NEW YORK! I unfold my legs and I rise from the black
leathered sofa and start to walk towards the counter trembling. I attempt with
all my might to prevent myself from shaking but my body doesn’t want to obey or
stop. I take a second look at the Greek god
behind the lime green painted counter. “So what’s your name, cutie?” His two beaming
brown eyes stare right into mine; he shows me his first grin. My heart has
melted into a million pieces. His face seems extremely perfect; squared jaw,
full painted lips, broad shoulders, perfect sized waist, , high cheek bones and
last but not least, beautiful light brown eyes. I am nowhere near perfect at
all. I wonder why this guy thinks I’m even near the percentage to “cute”. “A-Adam C-C-Carter, sir, I’m sorry I didn’t
come up right away. This is my first time coming to t-t-this place.” “Oh, what a cute name you have! Oh, don’t you
worry about it. It’s alright; you would be surprised by how many people do that
each day. Phone number?” “T-Thank You, um... I don’t like boys. I’m
sorry.” I nervously stated. I stare upon my converse; I don’t know what else to
say! Should I talk about the weather? No!
It grew awkward between us for a split second but he saved our conversation by
giving out sigh and slowly placing his harm hands under my chin, lifting it up.
“It’s okay, Adam. Don’t be so nervous,
everything’s fine. You didn’t offend me at all. In our salon it is required
that we have the customer’s name and number.” “Oh... Okay...516-703-4567.” I flush openly.
He continues to have his large hand on my chin; I stare at his arm once and at
him. He finally gets the message and takes his hand off my chin. He probably
thinks I’m mentally unstable or something. My stuttering is starting to come
again and I have no control of it at all! When I get extremely nervous or
excited I choke up but in this case, like
now, I stutter. He continuously smiles down at me. Doesn’t that smile hurt
his face? “Okay! So what do you want, a trim?” “Yes.” “Alright, just sit in seat 6, okay? I’ll be
right with you.” He points towards the back. He looks so happy and energetic; I
don’t really get along with those types of people. I hope I’ll get along with him though! I watch him waving and smiling at people,
he looks like such a people’s person. I can be that way too but only if I know
them for a long period of time. It’s hard for me to smile at someone that I am
unfamiliar with; I get nervous and self-conscious about my speech and about my
unperfected teeth. I swirl myself a couple of times in my chair, boredom fills
my beating heart. His station is filled with pictures of himself and other
people. I hope it’s his family. The
station feels pretty small. I don’t like it, it makes me feel uncomfortable. I
twist around with my chair once again, but slowly so I won’t look like a child
because I AM AN ADULT! Children are running around and playing with their toy
cars on the wooden floors. This view makes me put a goofy smile painted face
and I can’t wipe it off. I love children; they are so cute and fun. I wouldn’t
mind having a child of my own someday.
“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself here,
Swirling around and having that huge smile on your face!” Clutching his hand
together and placing it on his chin with a huge grin on his glorifying face. “I...I...I guess so.” “Oh please, don’t lose that smile; it suits you
well.” The flirtatious worker walks forward to the metal locked drawers, where
all the scissors and combs are. He takes a small bottle of water and pours it
into a sprayer-bottle thingy. He then shakes it quickly and spray’s away! S**t! The water is extremely cold. I
cringe a little and I carefully watch his face throw the mirror change from
cheerful to concern. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…I left this
bottle in this salon and I forgot that they don’t put the heater on at night.” “No, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous
that’s all. It’s no big deal.” His concern for me repeats in my head again and
again and again. I blush rosy pink. I feel like a giggle school girl. I’m not
gay, okay. I don’t like dick, that’s just plain gross and not normal! Whoa, Now
that I think of it, it’s not, not normal, but it just seems a little weird to
me. “So, Adam, how would you like your hair
today?” “Um... I just wanted my hair a little shorter;
nothing special.” “Okay, that’s fine. Just to let you know,
you’ll look so much cuter with your hair shorter! I can't wait to see your
gorgeous eyes!" “T-T-T-Tha-“ Ring, ring, ring! Mama’s name pops up and I couldn’t be
happier, it was getting more and more awkward by the second. “Hi, Adam, how’s everything? Are they doing
your hair right now?” “Yes, mom, everything’s great. My hair is
coming out nice, I guess.” “YOU GUESS? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” My face
accidently pushes the speaker button; my mom’s voice fills up the whole salon.
The flirtatious worker gazes at me and laughs uncontrollable. “Mom, calm down. It’s great, okay? Happy?” “Yes, I am very happy. Thank you oh so much!” “Mom, how am I going to get home? It’s
freezing outside and I don’t want to ask Kyle to pick me up,” As I say the word
Kyle, his eyes suddenly become dark,
and black filled with sorrow. Did I miss something here? He was just all smiles
and now he’s all glum? Why? Does he think… oh
god. No. I’M NOT GAY! Why would he assume that I mean, I don’t know if he
does but he called me cutie and stuff, I just don’t understand? Do I seem gay?
I mean, I am soft spoken but I can be manly, too! Oddly enough, the man doesn’t spare his time
to look at me through the mirror. “M-Mom, don’t you remember this morning? I’m
broke, how the hell am I going to my dorm?” “Listen, just calm down, I’ll come get you in
two hours, how does that sound?” “TWO HOURS? Hell no, mom, are you crazy? I’ll
call Kyle, he can pick me up somehow; he’s probably around the city.” I don’t
check to see if the dark colored hair worker was looking at me or not. He just
continues and doesn’t stop his steady pace. Maybe I was just “over doing” the
whole situation. “Fine, call that Kyle kid! You better call me
when you get home, okay?” “Yes, Mom, I’ll call you when I get home.
Bye.” I hang up the phone immediately and I throw out a big sigh. I had no
intention of calling Kyle at all; I just said that to test my mom in some way.
I guess my mom is giving me what I’ve always wanted: space and trust. I scroll
around in my phone to check if I still have Kyle’s number, I thought I’d delete
since I have never actually spoken to him, but thank god I didn’t. “There
you go, Mr. Carter! You’re all done with your haircut. That’ll be $15 dollars.”
He says with an all American smile. It is so contagious that I can’t help but
smile. Wasn’t he in a depressive mood
just a few minutes ago? The thought stay’s floating in my head for a while. “Thank you so much. It looks really nice,” I
whip out my $20 dollar bill and hand it to the brown eyed man. As he conceives the money our finger tips
touch. I instantly pull my hand back; my heart rapidly races. My fingertips
started to shake intensely. Does he have the same effect of me as I do of him? “Um, sir, can I use this comb for a second?” “Sure, you can! By the way, my name is Craig.
No need for you to call me um or err.” He turns away and walks toward the
counter. Craig? What a nice name, I
guess? Just like before, the man, I mean, Craig, starts to flirt with other
guys. He seems to know how to manipulate people with his good looks and charm. Looks
like I have fallen right into his trap. I begin to think that maybe he’s just
doing this for good tips or something. Maybe he’s looking for someone… The fact that he flirts with different guys
makes me irritated, but why? Is it the fact that I felt so special and when he
called me cutie and whatever; I suppose he says that to everyone. The most I
stare at him, the more I feel pain in my chest. I can’t bear it any longer! I
observe him once more and turn myself towards the mirror. I seem so different,
my hair is much shorter now and I don’t look like a girl. I gaze at myself even
longer and start to feel excited. Maybe a girl will actually look at me; for
once! I am longing to know how to get a girl, let alone flirt with one. Kyle
and Craig make it look so easy but in most cases it’s hard. If I try to flirt I
get all nervous and everything gets completely destroyed. The image and thought
of Kyle reminds me that I need to call him. There is no way in hell that I’m
going to wait here for 2 hours straight! I stretched in my chair and reached for my
phone. I give out a loud sigh filled with my nerves. I stand upright in my
chair and clear my voice. Don’t stutter,
Adam, don’t stutter. For the first time in nine months I’m actually going
to have a conversation with Kyle Stewart; here goes nothing! “Adam! Here’s your $5.” I literality jumped
from my seat, he yelled at me from across the across, scurrying his way with a
five dollar bill high in the sky. He unexpectedly turns me quickly around and
places his hands on my arm rest and stares right into my two eyeballs! Craig’s
face is stern and serious then changes once again in the
I-am-the-most-happiest-guy-in-the-whole-f*****g-planet smile. What in the-? “Listen, Adam. Do you have someone to take you
home?” “No, I-I-I don’t.” “Well, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be noisy
or anything but since you didn’t seem willing to call your friend, you can use
my metro card.” Craig opens the drawer and hands it to me. How could he have so
much trust in me? How will I see him again to return it? How is he going to get
home himself? “C-Craig, can I-I-I ask you something?” “Yes, Adam.” “How will I return this to you? I-I-I don’t
think I have ever seen you outside of this salon before and I-I-I am probably not going to come back here anytime
soon and also how will you get home yourself? Thanks, it’s very nice of you to
give this card to me but I can’t accept it. I’ll feel ashamed and unclean if I
were to spend all your money for my irresponsible actions.” That is probably
the longest sentence I have ever had with Mr. good-looking over here or anyone
in general. How dumb can this guy get? I’m trying to reject his offer nicely
but how could this guy be from New York? Giving stuff away to strangers? That’s
like asking if I could have his credit card or something. “Adam, I only have $2.50 in that card. It’s
nothing; I can just buy another card and put more money into it. I’ll just walk
home, I like street shopping anyway. Thank you for having such a concern for
me, Adam. It’s quite cute of you to be. Most people would just accept my card
and leave.” “Well, I imagine they would. Craig, I need to
tell you something. Please don’t laugh at me.” “Of course, I won’t, Adam. What is it?” “I’ve never been on a bus or train before.
I’ve mostly driven myself to my dorm.” Craig is biting his lips and starts to
laugh uncontrollable. He held on to himself tight pretending he were about to
explode from his stomach. Craig’s brow eyes grew teary eyed and his pale face
grew red. It was probably the cutest most pure thing I have ever seen. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Adam! I didn’t mean to
break my promise, I thought people who lived in New York City would learn by
then but I guess some haven’t learned. I can ride with you if you want. I get
out of work by 11’oclock but its only 10:15. I’ll work as quickly as I can.” Now
how can I deny such a nice offer like that when his two beaming eyes are
darting at me to say yes? This guy must
be a reincarnation of an angel; he’s so sweet and beautiful. Nice dark brown
flowing hair with a nice built body. With beautiful tender lips and his
gorgeous laugh, of course I’ll go with you, Craig. “I-I-I guess I could. I’ll just sit near the
entrance.” Embarrassment controls my body and I’m shaking
strangely. S**t, what’s wrong with me? Am I excited because I finally got
someone to actually talk to? Or is it because this the first time someone has
actually flirted with me? I should just be one with myself and accept that I am
gay. ADAM, YOU’RE NOT GAY! SOMETIMES GUYS
HAVE GAY MOMENTS. They do? NO, THEY DON’T! STRAIGHT GUYS DON’T BLUSH WHEN ANOTHER GUY IS
LAUGHING IN A CUTE WAY! But, his personality is so warm and “huggable”. ARE YOU
KIDDING ME? THIS GUY TOUCHES YOUR HAND ONCE AND NOW YOU THINK YOU’LL GUYS GET
TOGETHER NOW? YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR MIND, ADAM! My head has a minor battle
with my thoughts. ADAM, LISTEN TO ME!
CRAIG IS A GUY! GET HIS FLIRTACIOUS FACE OUT OF YOUR THOUGHTS! YOU BARELY KNOW
THIS GUY! “Okay, that’s fine. I advise you to grab a
magazine or something to kill time because you’re going to be here for a while.
Come to think of it you could do me a little favor by the time being. Would you
mind going across the street and buy me a Pepsi bottle, three chocolate glazed
doughnuts and a toasted bagel with smeared butter? ” Jeez, he can sure make a
list! He must be hungry! What if he’s literality starving in this gay circus
and not getting enough energy through the day? Maybe he’s dying from a deadly
disease and needs to eat every 3 hours! Or maybe he’s trying to gain some
weight after he got into a series of starvation episodes! My head starts to
hurt as I think farther into this. Maybe
Craig’s just hungry? I nod my head slowly and give Craig a big grin. He
returns it right back to me, I blush. Damn, it’s embarrassing. My face quickly
turns to beet red. I try my best to not seem awkward and gave Craig an odd
giggle, to mask my embarrassment. “Okay, I’ll be quick!” My voice cracks
unexpectedly. God, why did you make me such a nerd and a loser? I dare to
examine Craig and he is grabbing his stomach and laughing loudly, cupping his
laugh with his large left hand. Jeez, can’t you be a little sensitive to a kid
you just met? People around the salon are staring at Craig and he doesn’t stop,
it’s getting too out of hand. Am I really that funny? Or am I really pathetic?
I can’t tell which. Craig starts to shake his head and tries to speak. Each
time he says something, he gasps for air. I began to laugh with him. What is Craig
trying to say? “Oh, Adam, you a-a-are so cute, stop being so
adorable and buy me my damn stuff!” He
clutches his stomach and starts to breathe heavily. I’ve never heard anyone
laugh so loud and obnoxious. I gave Craig an odd smile and I turned away to go
buy his damn stuff.
© 2014 Julie SpadeReviews
|
Stats
170 Views
1 Review Shelved in 1 Library
Added on March 20, 2014Last Updated on March 20, 2014 Tags: Homosexuality, Confusion, shy, college, gay hairsalon AuthorJulie SpadeThe City Of Lights, NYAboutHello everyone! Pray that everyone is having an amazing day! I am Julie Spade with the age of 17 currently. To start off with the "about me" aspect I am extremely social, out going and mostly open to .. more..Writing
|