Classy Trashy Novels & Stories

He cleared his throat to continue "No disrespect Alley. I was just coming over to remove the trash." Another mistake on Bret's part. Everyone called Alley trash. She didn't like that word just as much as faggot. I just shook my head at him waiting for Alley's reply. "Trash, really? Then I guess you will be walking yourself out of here" she said, crossing her arms and standing her ground. She gave me a cross look that had me wipe my smug grin right off my face. Fuck, she is sexy. I doubt she had any idea who Bret was talking about or why, but damn would she just sit by and let him treat someone any other way than she saw fit.

Okay then, I guess it wasn't the usual college party. I quickly went into Cathy's room, took the quickest shower ever known to man, and put on the dress Blake got for me. It was a spaghetti strap silver satin dress that sat in the middle of my thighs. It had a low neckline and showed a bit of my breasts, but not so much to make it look slutty. It was the perfect combination of elegance and sexy and I was so rocking it. My makeup was quick and simple and I took another look at myself before stepping out of the room, the entire crowd wowing at the sight of me. I thought of it as them just being nice.

She glared at her and was insulted by the way Clara looked at her. Clara looked at Beatrix from head to toe before smiling. “You seem to have more children to look at than I do.” “Bitch! What do you need, and why did you come back?” “Yes, I’m the bitch between the two of us now, so you should be scared.” She grinned and looked pityingly at the woman. “Don’t be proud now just because you’re perched on the head of a buffalo. Even if your body is wrapped in gold, you’re still trash and garbage in my eyes!”

It slipped loose and fell to the ground with a dull thud. The lawyer saw it immediately. He bent down, picked it up, turned it over in his hand. For a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then he looked up at me with a mocking grin. “How clever,” he said, voice dripping with false admiration. “Always recording, aren’t you?” He pressed the stop button, listened briefly, and then, with deliberate cruelty, tossed it into the trash bin nearby. “Nice try, Miss Classira.” My stomach twisted with rage. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh yeah, totally. I’ve been dreaming of sucking off your fossil of a father since the day I got here. Super hot, all those gray pubes, really does it for me.” Elara’s face went purple. “You DISGUSTING FOOL…. ” “Elara!” Luna snapped, grabbing her arm. But Elara yanked free, stepped right up in my face. “You think you can just waltz in here and ruin my family? You’re nothing. You’re trash. Nobody wants you here except to fuck and throw away.” The word trash hit different. Hit hard. My laugh died instantly. I felt my face crumple before I could stop it, throat closing up.

Same old pathetic Cornels, that's him right there. His reaction only earned a smirk from me and I stood in front of him, my eyes staring down at his obviously shorter frame. "She said, trashy handbags tend to ruin the elegance of an exquisite dress. You have to get rid to those 'trashy bags' in order for the elegance of your dress to stand out." His eyebrows knitted together at my words and I grinned, bending slightly to his ear as i whispered, "And I did just that," I paused, straightening up while gesturing to the now vacant table. "Right on this very table, in this very room"

My fingers trembled so badly I could barely hold my phone. It took everything I had to type my reply, one letter at a time: “Is that so? Too bad. Trash I don’t want is only treasure to someone like you—picking it up and acting proud just makes you look pathetic.”

“You’re still trash, Selin. You will always be trash. No matter what fancy clothes you wear, no matter who you pretend to be… you can never wash off the dirt you were born with.” Alicia stood behind her cousin, nodding eagerly, her face twisted into a nasty sneer, adding her own insults under her breath, loud enough for only them to hear. “Just a little rat that crawled out of the gutter. Look at her, acting like she belongs here. How pathetic.”

Like the silence wasn’t silence at all—but a stage waiting for a punchline. And then it came. Laughter. Low. Sharp. Too loud in the too-quiet space. Whispers. Cutting. Precise. Designed to draw blood. “Look who showed up like nothing happened.” “She has no shame.” “Whore.” “Homewrecker.” “Trash.” That word landed the hardest. Trash. Like I was something disposable. Unwanted. Already tossed aside. Someone behind me snorted. “Guess the whole school saw those pictures.” My body locked up.

Why waste your time fighting for someone who doesn't even see you or care about your supposed love for him? A sly smirk spread across her lips. "You call me trash and say I'll always belong in the gutter, but look. This trash is the one who's got the man you've been trying so hard to be with for years. This trash spends countless nights being cuddled in his arms and is living her best life ever. This trash accomplished what you couldn't in years—being with the man who loves her to death, and so many more." She taunted, her eyes glinting with triumph.