I spent most of tonight at the pool hall, and I swear… there is nothing more fun than letting someone think they’re about to beat me.

I wore my little fitted top, leaned over the table, and watched him get all distracted like that was somehow my problem. Boys are so funny when they think they’re in control.

He kept calling me sweetheart and telling me I had “good form,” which made me laugh because I knew exactly what he meant. I just smiled, lined up my shot, and sank it anyway.

Daddy always said I had a competitive streak.

He was right.

I like being spoiled, I like getting my way, and I really like when someone underestimates me because I look cute. That’s when it’s the most fun to show them I know how to handle a stick better than they expected.

Oops. Maybe that sounded bad.

Or maybe I meant it that way.

Either way, I won the game.

And Diary? I think I liked making him watch me win even more.

xoxo Myla