Impossible Princess

‘Have you done your homework yet?’

Maisy Miller was sick of her father constantly berating her to work. Sixteen years old and she had never let him down yet, and with exams on the horizon, she had no intention of doing so.

She knew he was being a typical overprotective military dad. She knew it wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t an only child. But it still bugged her.

Quincy Miller swung his club frustration. Maisy would be at the school disco tonight – assuming she finished her homework. He could well remember what school discos were like from when he was a teenager and he expected that, if anything, this new generation would be even worse.

His wife Jacqui kept reminding him that Maisy was sixteen, almost an adult, and she’d been a good girl all this time. Her grades were good and she was destined to do well in her exams.

Sometimes she reminded him that they hadn’t even been much older than Maisy when they met: he embarking on his first tour of duty in Cyprus, her a military kid bored during the summer after her A-Levels. Eighteen years old. Eighteen years ago.

Still, he thought as he whacked the ball with a huge force. There would be sixteen year old boys at the disco. And sixteen year old boys only had one thing on their minds.

Maisy grabbed a bag of clothes as she left. She would change at River’s, she told them. She promised not to be late home.

‘Yeah, so I’m meeting him at his place and getting ready there. Yeah, if they call, please tell them I’m at yours. Don’t let your mum answer the phone. Cheers, River, I owe you one.’

Alibi sorted, Maisy dropped her phone in her pocket and went to meet Davy. Her plan was to change at his… and maybe get in some other activities too. They’d arranged to go to the disco a couple of weeks ago and she’d suggested changing at his. She saw this as the perfect opportunity to unburden herself of her virginity. The magazines always said to save yourself for someone special, but she didn’t really see the point. It was just a physical act, and so what if he wasn’t ‘the one’, he was attractive enough, and he was a good kisser – and she was sixteen, time enough to be getting on with it.

But when she arrived… ‘So, my parents are home and they’ve set up the spare room for you to change in. I’ll meet you in the hallway in about half an hour’.

She hurried out of her clothes and into her dress, flushed with frustration. This wasn’t how she’d planned things.

As she waited for him to come down and join her, she wondered whether she was ever going to get time alone with him.

But as they entered the school hall and she realised the number of glances the slit in the top of her dress and the shortness of her hemline were getting, she realised her options were a lot more open than she realised. And if Davy wouldn’t give her what she wanted… she was pretty sure she could find it somewhere else…

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