“How’re the new tattoo and piercing healing?” Klaudia burst into the living room, not afraid to invade my space, even though it was her living room after all.

I looked down at my left wrist of my minimalistic cat tattoo, feeling the safe warm memories take over my body.

“The tattoos completely healed. But my piercing’s still sore,” I pouted as I massaged my left tit.

“I can take a look at it if you want me to,” Klaudia smirked, in a joking way of course.

“Shut the fuck up,” I rolled my eyes and chuckled alongside her. I knew she would never do that to Birdie. They might have only been dating a year, but they were head over heels in love with each other. As in love you can be with someone.

“What did you and Birdie want to talk about?”

I twirled my thumbs together, a little bit afraid they were going to kick me out. I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, being here three months and all. And I knew Birdie was too nice to tell me to get out, so maybe that’s why Klaudia was here.

Klaudia plopped down on the couch, stretching out her long legs on the coffee table and stared long and hard at her and Birdie’s bedroom, like she was trying to unleash her secret x-ray vision to see what was happening inside.

“She’ll be out in a second,” she smiled at me for a few seconds, viewing my whole attire. “You look good. You finally look like the way you always wanted to from what Birdie told me.”

I blushed and twirled my new light pink short hair around my finger like it was a toy. “I finally feel like me, too.”

“This breakup was good for you,” Klaudia looked down at my bottom lip that was pierced in the middle. “Although, I hate that — whatever that piercing is called.”

“It’s an Ashley piercing,” I said for the hundredth time.

Klaudia let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I just don’t care enough to remember.”

Her voice was dull and cold, but she wasn’t. She just had a tendency to come off as a blood-cold bitch, like the first time I saw her, but she was actually a sweetheart behind her androgynous style. Klaudia had very short hair, a strong square jaw, and the muscular lean build that she liked to show off whenever she wore her tank tops or crop tops. She could almost pass for a guy if it wasn't for her cute dimples and long, full, killer eyelashes that made any girl want to steal them.

“AHHHH!!!” I heard Birdie yell from the bedroom.

She came into the living room leaping with joy until she snapped a sharp glare at Klaudia.

“Don’t think for one second that I didn’t hear what you said about my baby,” Birdie walked over to the couch and hugged my neck. “My baby has gotten so far to look the way she wants without some asshole of a boy telling her she is less than perfect.” Her hug was getting tighter like an anaconda gripping its prey to death, but in this case, she was gripping me with love.

Unlike Klaudia, Birdie looked like a sweetheart, like a fragile bird, which is how she got the nickname Birdie. She was small, barely five feet and weighing ninety pounds. I was always envious of her when I was younger, but I learned to love myself over the years. I was never going to look like her and I was okay with that.

Birdie had long strawberry blonde hair that went down to her waist and bright lime-green eyes that made everyone stop and stare, boys or girls. She was naturally beautiful and naturally a kind person. However, she was also a natural persuader. She somehow always managed to get me to do things I never wanted to do. She was an evil genius like that.

Before I even knew it, I felt light headed and it was time to tap out.

“Too much love, Birdie.”

“Oh sorry, baby,” she dropped down on the couch with a sheet of wrinkly loose leaf paper.

“Did you find it?” Klaudia whispered as if I was in another room and not sitting beside them. Birdie responded with her round cheek bones rising.

“What is that?” I looked over Birdie’s shoulder to take a peek of the paper titled The Breakup List, before she ripped it out of my sight and hugged it.

“Okay, it’s time,” she hugged the paper tighter, giving it more wrinkles than before. “It’s been three months since you’ve broken up with Paul and you already finished the PG-13 break up list —”

“PG-13 break up list?” I squinted, watching her ridiculously happy face as she bubbled with laughter.

Klaudia cleared her throat.

“You know the stereotypical things you do after a breakup. Eat a shit ton of ice cream, cry for days, watch a sad movie, listen to your favorite song over and over and over again. I swear to god if I have to listen to Welcome to the Jungle one more time —” Klaudia broke her train of thought. She took a deep breath to get herself back on topic. “Get a new haircut and color, get a tattoo, get a new look.” Klaudia gestured her hand at my whole body.

“Exactly. Listen Mal, this is the first time in five years you have been single without some shitty guy telling you that you can’t look a certain way or act a certain way or be a certain way. Basically, this will be the first time you won’t be brought down by some asshole. You finally get to be happy without some jackass controlling you. I mean, you are the sassiest smartass girl I know, but you change so much when you get into a relationship. A bad relationship. You basically turn vanilla even though you’re a thick banana split hot fudge sundae with nuts!”

“Okay, Birdie, where are you going with this?” I giggled, knowing that she was one of the few people in the world who loved me for me.

She released the paper and handed it to me, like she was handing over the holy grail.

“This is the Rated-R Breakup List. This is what you do after the PG-13 Breakup List. This is what you need to do.” She was giving me that look: that look that made me what to do whatever she said, like she was swinging a pocket watch in front of me.

“Think of the list as a game. A game you need to finish before you can date again,” Klaudia’s voice broke me out of Birdie’s evil genius glare. She took a seat next to me, making sure I was squished between them.

I looked over the list, skimming the ten rules slowly.

“Ummm — I don’t think — this is just —”

“There are obviously some changes I need to make in the list so they can fit you, but do you honestly think you can’t do any of these?”

Get a lap dance.

Get finger fucked in public.

Call the person you are fucking Mommy (Juicy Mommy if her cunt is as sweet as a juicebox).

Obviously, this list was meant for Birdie or Klaudia.

“How about this,” Birdie snatched the paper out of my hand and ran to her bedroom. “I’ll make the list specialized to you and then you can tell me if you want to do it!” She shut the door behind her.

“You should do it.” Klaudia turned to face me, leaning her back against the arm of the couch. “Aren’t you tired of being a good girl even though you have a dark side? I mean, EVERY girl has a dirty side.”

I looked down at my long fingernails and picked off the gold nail polish.

I’ve had three boyfriends in my life and they all ended up the same way, more or less. Birdie was right. I always seem to get controlled when I get in a relationship even though I am not like that. I used to never care about what people thought of me until I started dating at seventeen, until I tried to impress whichever asshole I was dating at the time.

I remember telling Paul I wanted to dye my blonde hair baby pink and he flipped. He called me names like ready-to-pop bubble gum and Pepto-Bismol. Now that I thought about it, I probably should have known we weren't going to last but I was too naïve to see otherwise. It was even worse when I told him I wanted a tattoo; I could still feel his blazing breath on my face as he whispered I will skin that tattoo off of you if you ever get it.

Memories of Paul’s verbal abuse started to flow into my mind, but they had no effect on me. He was a distant memory that I had almost completely repressed.

“Here,” Birdie slapped a folded up sheet of pink notebook paper on my lap and lowered her light body on the couch. “The final version with the rules you need to follow.”

“Rules?” I unfolded the sheet of paper.

1. Send nudes and get nudes.

2. Get a lap dance

3. Have phone sex

4. Fuck a man 15 years older than you

5. Have sex in a public place

6. Let him do whatever he wants to you

7. Call the person you are fucking Daddy. Big Dad D if he has the biggest cock you’ve seen (did you see what I did there Mal. I’m punny :))

8. Have your first orgasm from a cock (It’s about time baby)

9. Have sex naked (No shirt Mallory)

10. Use any sex toy of your choice during sex

- You can’t kiss the guys.

- You have to go commando with any skirt or dress you wear.

- No hitting two birds with one stone. This means you have to do each number with different men. Ten men total.

- If you don’t finish the list within 30 days you have to restart. No roll overs.

- Do NOT lose this list!!!

- Once you are done with the list, start dating again :*

The room was dead silent, except for the white noise of the AC. I read the list over again, this time feeling my body react to it. A faint one-second smile appeared on my face as I thought about doing these with multiple random sexy studs.

“For fuck’s sake, let the little slut inside of you free!” Birdie snapped.

“Bernadette!” I gasped, never before hearing that word escaped her lips. Klaudia bit her lip trying not to get involved.

“What? I’m I wrong Mallory?” she puckered her lips in a sassy way.

I let out a defeated sigh, “Nooo ...”

I ran my finger along the black ink against the pink paper. My gut tightened with each stroke of the paper. Not only were Birdie and Klaudia waiting for an answer, but my body was too. I looked at Birdie — that was a mistake. I could hear her hissing at me with her lime eyes saying, “Do it. You know you want to, I see the girl inside of you that wants to start this list ASAP. Do it.”

“Yes — you know what ... ya!” I folded the sheet closed. “Fuck it. I’m going to let the little slut inside of me free.”

Birdie let out an unruly squeal. “OH MY GOSH!!! Yes!!!” She gave me an unbelievably tight hug again. I looked over at Klaudia who was smirking at me, showing off her cute dimples.

“Why don't you start tomorrow?” Klaudia spoke after a few minutes of silence. I should have known she was coming up with her own plan on the side.

My face fell, dropping any signs of any mortal expressions.

“Listen, I need more time —”

“No, Klaudia’s right. Tomorrow would be perfect. You are going to your uncle's promotion party so you can easily find a daddy who is fifteen years older than you,” Birdie winked.

“I don’t want to fuck a dad though. Can we change that?” I grunted.

Klaudia let out an angry sigh, “Then fuck a guy who is single and who’s older. You know a daddy isn’t always a dad, he can just be on older guy who takes care of you, or this case, just fucks you really good.”

I felt naive and didn’t say anything. I had never called anyone Daddy, except my dad, but that was a long time ago.

“Please, tell me that the only straight person in this room knew that,” Birdie shook her head, letting out a laugh that resembled disbelief.

“Okay. Wait. What if he doesn’t like being called daddy?” I shyly spoke, trying to find a counterargument.

“Have you never called Paul or Ben or — that guy with the weird lisp Daddy?” Klaudia waved her hand in the air trying to think of Kevin’s name.

“No...” I said loud enough for only me to hear.

It wasn’t like I sat down with my boyfriends and discussed what I wanted in our sex life, or what they wanted. Because if we had, I already knew what I would say. Oh, yes, if you could choke me when we’re having sex, that would be fantastic.

“You’ve might’ve had sex before me but, damn, you're basically a virgin Mal,” Birdie smirked.

“Okay, I get it. I barely have any good sexual experience —”

“And this is why The Breakup List is going to help you. Trust me, you will find ten sexy guys to help you finish the list and you will have the best experience of your life.” Birdie’s eyes glowed with persuasion, even though she knew I was already hooked and reeled in.

I played with the folded up pink sheet, picking at the corner and thinking about all that could go wrong. There were questions on top questions overflowing in my brain, but I decided ignored them. I had to — no — I want to do this. I wanted to play a game I could win at.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with what felt like adrenaline and said, “I’m going to start tomorrow.”