“Please. It’s for a good cause.” You pleaded your case on a Thursday, standing in the middle of your dad’s garage.

“Since when are shoes a good cause?” Dad shot back, brushing past you. Joey snorted from under a car.

Completely ignoring Joey, you followed your dad like a duckling. “Pleasee. I won’t ask for anything again.”

“Jesus, fine.” Dad muttered, wiping his hands on an oil rag. “I’ll get my wallet.”

“You’re the best,” You crooned, steering Dad towards the direction of his office.

Waiting until Dad disappeared in his office, you turned your attention to Joey.

With one leg on either side of his body, you reached down, fisted the front of his shirt and yanked hard, causing him to roll out from under the car, spanner in hand.

“Do you mind?” Joey drawled, looking up at you from his perch, oil smeared on his cheek.

“Do you mind with your snickering?” You shot back, hands on your hips, as you stood over him and glared.

“You’re a witch, aren’t ya?” Joey laughed again. “Playing your Da like that.”

“You didn’t see the shoes.” You huffed.

“Shoes,” Joey snorted, shaking his head. “And you wonder why we’re not compatible.”

“Okay mister, I have no problem spending my money on weed.” You tossed back. “If you saw me wearing those shoes, you’d understand.”

“If they look as good as that blue thong you’re wearing, I agree.” Joey replied, gesturing to the perfect view up your skirt you accidentally gave him.

“Close your eyes.”

“Close your legs.”

“No. I’m not embarrassed.”

“Neither am I.”

“You’re looking up my skirt.”

“You’re flashing your pussy in my face.”