Showing Off

"What a beautiful sight," Cassie said with awe in her voice. "I need to get a picture."

"I know. Don't I look perfect?" Bridget responded.

That vain comment caused the redhead to spin around from the window. A frown formed as she saw her gorgeous friend posing in front of the mirror.

"You did not just say that."

"Relax. I'm messing with you," Bridget chuckled. "I'm not that bad."

"Not yet."

The two teenagers stood inside the spacious bedroom that belonged to Shelly during her stays. At least, the older blonde had the self-awareness to blush at the younger girls' reactions upon entering her room. Bridget had whistled while Cassie pointed that her vacation home bedroom might triple the size of their home bedrooms. After showing them where they could store their belongings, Shelly raced off because of bloodcurdling screams.

"Shelly's a lucky girl. I'd love a place like this in the future," the blonde remarked wistfully. "I guess I better marry well. Nurses don't get paid what they deserve."

"Neither do teachers. But that's what this is for." Cassie said, lifting her camera. "Memories can fade, but photos last a lifetime."

"Alright, you convinced me. Take my picture. No, wait!" Bridget exclaimed, holding up a hand.

Rechecking her reflection, Bridget adjusted the straps around her neck before stretching the fabric over her breasts. Turning to the side, she nodded in satisfaction at how the bottoms molded to her ass.

"So, how do I look?"

"Showing off way too much skin," Cassie replied, not looking. Instead, she lined up a shot of the scenic lake through the open balcony door.

"Making up for you not showing enough," Bridget replied, shaking her head at her friend's bikini. If one could call the light blue crop top and large bottoms a bikini.

CLICK

Silence.

CLICK

"Okay, I'm done."

"Wait, you didn't even bother to pose me!" Bridget complained as Cassie walked past her toward the door after taking a quick picture of the blonde.

"That's why it's called a snapshot."

"Aargh! You know, you're as bad as Tin in your own way," she called after her departing friend. "Hey, wait up!"

"Nope. I want a headstart, so I don't get in the way of paparazzi," Cassie explained, already on the first step of the stairs.

"Haha. Very funny!" Bridget responded before immediately catching herself. Slowing down, she ran her hands down over the white bikini again, adjusting it. Then, under her breath, she added, "Showtime."

Although she wouldn't be visible until past the halfway point, Bridget began her model-like descent on the very top stair. Swaying her hips while thrusting out her chest, she waited to run her hand through her wavy blonde hair until after hearing the third guy groan.

"Oh, hello, boys. I didn't see you there," she added, one step from the bottom. The stairs opened into a sitting room on the right-hand side. Even better, the small group of guys turned out to be recent graduates.

"H-Hi, Bridget."

Flashing a broad smile at the three admirers to her right, Bridget added a little wave with her fingers before turning to the lone guy on the left side of the stairs. Having gotten hot and heavy with this particular guy at a past party, Bridget added a slight rasp to her voice to make it sound sexier.

"Hello, Porter. You gonna miss me this year?" Damn, why couldn't I have inherited that rasp from Mom?

"The worst part of graduating is not seeing you," Porter replied, winking. "You better plan a trip down to Breakwater this fall."

"No doubt. It's on our itinerary. See ya."

Walking away, Bridget added an exaggerated sway to her hips. It not only kept the attention of the young men she left behind in the sitting room but also caught the eyes of the guys milling around in the kitchen. Hands stuffing snacks into mouths froze in mid-air as the buxom cheerleader walked the imaginary catwalk.

Always maintaining a fifteen feet headstart, Cassie finally stopped at the side door off the kitchen. Turning around, she shook her head as her co-BFF approached, sending small comments and smiles at the guys she passed.

"Proter Jubb? Seriously? Please tell me you didn't."

"Don't worry. I only made out with him," Bridget replied. Yet, the redhead's internal Bee and Tin lie detector caused a knowing look that **** the blonde to admit to more. "Okay, maybe we got a little handsy, but I did not let his dick enter my port."

"That better be all. If he hasn't had an STD yet, it's coming," Cassie proclaimed, opening the door. "You shouldn't be talking to his kind, let alone touching him."

"Whoa! Getting a little judgmental, aren't you?" Bridget questioned, walking out in the sunny afternoon.

"Not when he's trying to recruit my friend to work at The Beehive," Cassie replied heatedly. "That's what he's doing, you know."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to become a stripper," Bridget assured her close friend. "I'm helping my dad out."

"What? How?"

"You'd be shocked at how many of his cases take him to dive bars and strip clubs. So by being nice to the heir to The Beehive, I'm helping him out."

"I'm sure your parents would be thrilled with how you help." Then, interrupting their mini-argument, Cassie asked, "Beach?"

"Alright, I'll admit that I got a little carried away," Bridget said sheepishly after nodding about heading toward the beach. "But I guarantee my name is golden with Porter from here to eternity."

"And I bet he thought your shoes foreshadow your stage work."

"What's wrong with my sandals?" Bridget looked down at her high wedge sandals.

"Besides looking like stripper heels in training, they're completely impractical," Cassie explained. "You're lucky if you don't fall and break your neck."

"Tinny loved them. So did Gabby."

Cassandra didn't reply verbally. Her look made it crystal clear that she felt vindicated.

Spotting a blond from her older sister's grade, Bridget motioned to get the attention of Miranda Underwood's older brother.

"What do you think of my sandals?"

"Your sandals?" Tucker repeated in confusion as he stopped, his eyes drawn to her breasts. "Uh, you look great! I mean, they look nice, I guess."

"Thanks, Tucky!" Bridget grinned, patting him on the cheek before resuming their walk.

"Tucker doesn't count. He's all out of sorts after breaking up with Valentina," Cassie pointed out.

"Oh, do you need more reviews?" the blonde asked as they reached the stairs that led down the hill to the lake.

"Less than you need the attention."

Bridget responded by sticking her tongue out at her childhood friend. As the serious third of their trio, Cassie hesitated a good five seconds before doing likewise.

"Whoa!"

"Dude, they're going to kiss!"

"Holy shit."

The two BFFs reacted differently. While Cassie appeared horrified by the suggestion, Bridget smirked at the small group of guys a grade behind them.

"No, we're not going to kiss," Cassandra responded indignantly.

"We're saving that for amateur night at The Beehive. Come watch us, and tip generously."

One of the guys beat Cassie to the punch as his friends hooted and hollered in joy.

"Don't be idiots. They're just fucking with us."

"But she just said--"

"Listen to Hershel, Oliver," Cassie instructed. "Where's Graham?"

"Yeah, he's the brains of your outfit," Bridget added, referring to Graham Diamond.

"Not here yet," Hershel Cline answered as the two girls continued walking down the stairs.

"I better not get a reputation." the redhead hissed.

"Oh, please. Nobody but a few horny boys in their fantasies will believe it," Bridget stated, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, she had a new idea. "You know, maybe they might. I mean, you don't have a steady boyfriend. Perhaps they'll discover the truth about Cassandra Bank. Good girl by day, stripper harlot by night."

"Nice try, Bee. You're still not playing matchmaker for me."

"Hmm, you should've picked a different stage name. Cinnamon Bun isn't very secretive," Bridget teased, bumping her friend's hip as they finished descending.

"Oh, hey, there's Hattie. A nice, well-behaved girl that I can talk to about normal things," Cassie announced, already preparing to walk toward Hattie Hyland.

"And look! There's Brock Beal, a handsome football player that I bet would love to take you out on a date. He's got quite the extensive knowledge about football and well...football," Bridget announced in response. "I think that I'll go put in a good word for you."

"Do that, and I'll give Brandy a detailed report on your summer fun," Cassie warned, walking off.

"You wouldn't!"

"I bet your little sister would love to see the pictures too."

Bridget opened her mouth to unleash her own threat, but it never came out. Instead, she shrieked in shock as a pair of strong arms picked her off the ground. Getting swung in a circle, the blonde couldn't see her strongman. Is it Harvey? I don't need that. Bev would freak out. Bridget mused as she recalled Harvey's display of strength during the water fight.

"Put me down!"

"Are you going to play nice with my favorite neighbor?"

Recognizing the voice, Bridget decided not to play nice with its owner. Adding a sexy purr to her voice, she replied, "Not unless you spank me."

Russell "Rusty" Ridge surprised Bridget by dropping her like a hot potato. Landing on her butt, the blonde cried out in legitimate pain.

"Shit, sorry!" Rusty apologized, pulling her off the ground into a standing position. "You okay?"

"No! I thought I was your favorite neighbor," Bridget said, adding a sexy pout.

"Cassandra lives across the street from me. You're a block over," Rusty pointed out.

Two years older than Bridget, Rusty had short, dark brown hair, a muscular figure, and an easygoing personality. The handsome older guy in her neighborhood, Bridget had practiced her flirting on him since she learned that she liked the attention of boys. Rusty had been a safe person to flirt with as he'd never take it too far with a younger neighbor. Almost never.

"A block doesn't matter," the blonde replied, playfully punching his shoulder. "And where have you been this summer? We've seen you like once."

"Working a summer job. That's what grownups do."

"Grownup my ass," Bridget responded dismissively. "What job?"

"Construction up in Arbor Corners."

"Ooh! Putting these muscles to work, huh?" Bridget got a shock when Rusty flinched away from her hand that had started to run down his bicep.

"I guess," he said with a shrug. "I think I might prefer a desk job in the future. But, hey, I couldn't miss one of Shelly's parties."

"Or she'd kill you."

"Yep, there's that," Rusty chuckled, appearing like his old self again. "She must have left six messages on my answering machine and called Elliot twice. Kept on telling me that I needed to provide friends for the party."

"And did you?" Bridget inquired with a hint of tease as she scanned the college men.

"Brought my roommate from the dorms last year. He's working construction with me. And I managed to convince two of the three guys that we're going to room with next month to drive down here. We're renting a house a couple of blocks over from campus."

"Five young stud muffins like you in one house? Expect to see plenty of visitors, buster."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't. Our house is three down from Shelly and Cookie," Rusty revealed, earning a sharp laugh from the blonde. "So, what was the problem with Cassie?"

"Oh, the same. Trying to convince her to date a guy," Bridget explained.

"Still? I don't know how she and Kirk haven't gotten together. He's had a crush on her for years."

"Tell me about it! Cass always has one excuse or another, but she does like him." Then, pausing for a moment, she added, "I think she's afraid to date. Maybe me and Tinny have set a bad example or something with guys."

"Yeah, I was just about to ask that next. How come you're not with anyone?"

"Why you asking? Looking to rob the high school cradle," Bridget teased, moving closer to him.

"Nope! I just thought you and Elliot could be a good couple," Rusty said, jumping away from the teenager. His younger brother was in the same grade as Bridget.

"And get in the middle of the Prank War? Are you insane? Tinny might kill me."

"I can't believe that's still going on, but then I can believe it," Rusty laughed.

Tinsley and Elliot had been engaged in a battle of pranks, tricks, and crazy stunts for almost a dozen years. Speculation had run rampant around the Oakfield Park neighborhood about the dueling duo. Some like Mrs. Day and Mr. Ridge thought they were destined to marry. Others like Tinny's father hoped not. He'd stated more than once that he'd never pay for their wedding as it'd be a waste of money. Mr. Day predicted that any marriage between the two wouldn't last two years. Finally, you had people like Bridget's mom, that found it odd that everyone expected the two to date. She pointed out that Tinny and Ellie acted more like squabbling siblings than anything else.

"Alright, what's going on? Why are you acting funny? Has someone been talking about me?" Bridget questioned sharply.

"What? I'm not acting--"

"Yes, you are! I bet it's one of those ex-Sugarbees up at Zurbrugg. What rumors are they spreading?"

"N-Nothing, I swear," Rusty denied.

"Tell me," Bridget growled. If rumors were spreading about her, she wanted to know.

"Look, it's not like that," Rusty replied. Glancing around, he lowered his voice, "Shit. I need to tell someone. Can you keep a secret?"

"Have I told anyone that I gave you my first handjob?"

"Jesus, Bee!" the college student exclaimed as he looked around in fear. "We agreed to never bring that up. Shit!"

"And I've never told a soul," the blonde reminded him. "Do you know how hard it was not to tell Tinny or Cassie about the first dick I touched?"

"You better not tell them ever! I was drunk, and you shouldn't have been at that party," Rusty groaned, still feeling guilty over what happened.

"I was very persistent then and now."

"Okay, fine," the brown-haired guy buckled under her stare. Lowering his voice to the softest whisper, he revealed, "I'm dating someone."

"So?" Bridget shot back immediately. What's the big deal?

"It's...I'm dating Amelia Vandermeer."

"What...how...for fucking real?!"

"Shhh! Keep it down. And yes, for real."

"Why? Amelia and Cordelia are stuck-up bitches. No, wait, the whole family reeks of snobby pretentiousness," Bridget remarked.

"I thought that too, but Amelia is different," Rusty stated.

"You sure that's not your dick talking?"

"No, I mean it. There's something about her."

"I'd say there is. Maybe if--"

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Whatever insult Bridget had planned about Amelia vanished as Tinsley stormed over. The blonde immediately recognized the level of stomping that her friend performed and knew something bad had happened. It wasn't hard to guess what as Tinny was soaked. Absolutely soaked. Water dripped from her messy hair, tank top, and jean shorts.

"Uh, I'm going to go. Talk to you later," Rusty hastily bid his goodbye. He'd witnessed more than enough Tinny Tantrums growing up to last a lifetime.

"Did you fall in the lake?" Bridget attempted to joke.

"You're sister's ex threw me in the pool!"

"Harvey threw you in the pool?"

"Twice!" the petite brunette screamed.

"Well, you kinda asked for it."

"Just because you get all dreamy about his cock, doesn't mean that you get to take his side!"

"Geez, keep it down, will ya?" Bridget worked to hush her irate friend. The story of her walking in on Beverly and Harvey fucking had never spread beyond her friends. And considering Bev's attitude since breaking up with him, she'd get even worse if old stories came to light now.

"He's on my list now. Oh, I'm so going to get him back," Tinny vowed. "Where's Cass? I need her camera."

"Why?" Bridget asked, growing concerned.

"To get dirt on him. That's why!"

"Tin, you don't want to start a war with Harvey."

"I'm not afraid of Big Dick Diamond. Not after I get some dirt and spread it around town on him," Tinny boasted, still standing in front of Bridget as she dripped water. "Hmm, I wonder who he's going to bang tonight. Or already has!"

"Oh, gawd. Please don't sneak around and follow him. I don't need any Harvey drama in my house again," Bridget begged. "Wait, why are you still dressed? Aren't you cold?"

"Oh, um, yeah, I got a problem, Bee," Tinny replied, her voice changing drastically. "I can't get them off."

"What?"

"I can't get these damn shorts off. I barely got them on, but now wet, they're plastered to me. Don't tell Cass!" Tinny ordered.

"Okay, but she'll start to wonder why you still have them on."

"That's why I need your help pulling them off."

"Seriously?"

"It's not funny!"

"It kinda is."

"Bee!"

Bridget turned as it wasn't Tinny that screamed her nickname. Instead, she saw Shayla Cooke leading several girls from last year's JV squad. A year younger, Shayla had been promoted mid-year to the varsity squad after another squadmate had quit. A short, athletic, and dark-skinned girl, Shayla quickly became beloved by older teammates. To Bridget, it was a given that the friendly, outgoing girl would be cheer captain in another year.

"Hey, Shay, did you just get here?" Bridget greeted with a question.

"About ten minutes ago. Sorry to bother you," Shayla began, glancing at Tinny. "But the girls are getting worried and have questions for you."

"Me?"

"Face it, Bee, everyone is already treating you like the captain," Tinny remarked, getting a nod from Shayla.

"Fine. But help me get Tin's shorts off first."