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Marisol stood in front of the mirror, nervously examining her reflection, clad in her jacket. She was getting ready for her date with Sam, but her insecurities were getting the best of her. She changed her hairstyle ten times and tried on three different dresses. Letting out a sigh of frustration, she unzipped her jacket as she heard Sam's car roll up and honk.

Marisol let out a hesitant sigh, making her way out of her room just as Mila approached her. "Don't have too much fun," Mila teased, smacking her lips together. Marisol rolled her eyes playfully, gently shoving Mila aside. As she descended the stairs, she noticed Natasha sitting by the open window, cigarette in hand. Marisol was about to step out the door when Natasha unexpectedly blurted, "Have sex with her in the hot tub tonight." Marisol froze, panic flooding her expression as she stared at her stepmom. "What!?" she exclaimed, shocked and taken aback.

Natasha crushed her cigarette into the ashtray, her gaze fixed on Marisol with an unamused expression. "Have sex in the hot tub with the girl in the skirt," she pointed at Sam, causing Marisol to nervously laugh. "W-what? Aren't you, Dad, and Mila..." Marisol stammered, her words trailing off as Natasha raised an eyebrow in response. "Mila will be at a friend's house, your father is out with a friend, and I'll be... going on a little trip. You'll have the house... to yourself," Natasha declared, a mischievous smirk forming on her face. Marisol's cheeks flushed bright red as she struggled to find words. "I-I..."

Natasha clicked her tongue, her curiosity evident in her tone. "Have you guys...?" she trailed off, causing Marisol to avert her gaze, avoiding eye contact. The Kotov-Cervantes women exchanged a knowing look. "Have you?" Natasha pressed, her eyebrows raised inquisitively. Marisol shook her head, her voice filled with honesty. "We've only made out... we almost had sex once, the night we got together."

Natasha smirked mischievously. "Have fun," she grinned, causing Marisol to nod hesitantly. Marisol slipped into Sam's car and received a questioning look from Sam. "What's up?" she asked, fastening her seatbelt as Sam began to drive. "What took you so long?" Sam inquired, her curiosity evident. Marisol responded bluntly, earning a quizzical look from Sam. "I'd rather not say," she stated, her tone straightforward.

—

Marisol and Sam sat across from each other at the table, their first date feeling a bit awkward. They ate in silence for a moment before Marisol spoke up, breaking the tension. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. Sam chuckled and quickly responded, "No, I'm sorry too." They shared an awkward laugh together, both feeling the same discomfort. "This is so awkward... what do we talk about on a date if we already know each other?" Marisol asked, her nerves evident in her chuckle.

Sam grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "What if we pretend we've never met before?" she suggested playfully, causing Marisol to chuckle warmly, her smile growing. "Yeah, that could be fun," Marisol agreed, nodding in agreement. Sam let out a dramatic sigh and leaned in, adopting a playful tone. "So, what's your name?" she asked, clearly joking. Marisol clicked her tongue, playing along. "Oh, I'm Mars... Mars Conklin," she replied, adding a fake British accent to her words, which made them both laugh. "And what might your name be?" she asked, continuing the playful charade.

Sam laughed heartily, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "My name is Isabella... Isabella Russo," she confirmed, causing Marisol to burst into laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. "Are we really going on a dinner date with these fake names?" Marisol asked, still chuckling. Sam shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Nah... how about we get out of here? Go to my place?" she suggested, her tone filled with excitement. Marisol's eyes widened, remembering the warning her stepmom had given her.

Natasha crushed her cigarette into the ashtray, her gaze fixed on Marisol with an unamused expression. "Have sex in the hot tub with the girl in the skirt," she pointed at Sam, causing Marisol to nervously laugh. "W-what? Aren't you, Dad, and Mila..." Marisol stammered, her words trailing off as Natasha raised an eyebrow in response. "Mila will be at a friend's house, your father is out with a friend, and I'll be... going on a little trip. You'll have the house... to yourself," Natasha declared, a mischievous smirk forming on her face. Marisol's cheeks flushed bright red as she struggled to find words. "I-I..."

"How about we go to my place? Nattie was telling me all about it," Marisol suggested, biting her bottom lip nervously. Sam nodded, a playful smile on her face. "Actually, that sounds really cool. Do you think I could borrow a swimsuit?" Sam asked, looking at Marisol expectantly. Marisol nodded eagerly, excitement filling her voice. "Of course! I have some cute ones you can choose from. Let's go!"

—

Marisol and Sam arrived at Marisol's house and quickly changed into their swimsuits. Marisol leaned against the railing, striking a pose, while Sam couldn't help but be captivated by her friend's allure. "What are you staring at?" Marisol asked playfully, her voice laced with flirtation. Sam's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. "Uh, well... you just look really... amazing," she stammered, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Marisol swam closer to Sam, gently cupping her face. "You know, you're really beautiful," she said, giving Sam a flirty look. Sam's face turned bright red, and she giggled in response. "Thank you," she trailed off, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness. Suddenly, Marisol leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Sam's cheek. Sam's heart raced as she whispered, "You look incredibly attractive," causing Marisol to grin with delight.

She nonchalantly lifted her shoulders, conveying a sense of indifference as she spoke, "That's the crux of the matter." Sam, caught in a moment of vulnerability, nervously nibbled on her lower lip, her gaze locked with Marisol's.

Marisol initiated the intimacy, pressing her lips onto Sam's with a deliberate tenderness. The connection deepened as Marisol's lips traced a path down to Sam's neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses. Sam, overtaken by the sensation, responded by letting her hands glide down to Marisol's waist, fingers tracing gentle patterns.

As the kiss continued, Sam's desire intensified. She moved her body closer, a subtle urgency in her actions, and instinctively wrapped her legs around Marisol's thighs. The physical closeness mirrored the emotional connection, creating a moment where time seemed to stand still, encapsulating the intensity of their shared passion..

A magnetic gaze locked Marisol and Sam in a silent exchange of desires. Sam, attuned to the unspoken connection, initiated a gentle kiss on Marisol's lips. With a breathy question, she sought consent, whispering, "Can I..?" Marisol's response came in the form of a playful grin, a subtle invitation, as she traced Sam's collarbone with a soft hum of anticipation.

The transition to a more intimate phase unfolded seamlessly. Marisol and Sam, in a synchronized dance, removed their tops with an unspoken understanding. As the layers fell away, Sam's hand embarked on a deliberate journey across Marisol's chest, exploring the contours with a feather-light touch. Each kiss became a nuanced expression of their growing closeness, and Sam, moved by a sense of desire, drew herself ever closer to Marisol, savoring the unfolding intimacy.

Marisol's lips met Sam's forehead, her touch sensually caressing Sam's arm while Sam, caught in the moment, bit her lip. "You're exceptionally beautiful," Marisol remarked, planting kisses on Sam's neck, eliciting a soft moan. Expressing her desire, Marisol confessed, "I want to explore further," accompanied by a flirtatious look. Sam smirked knowingly, understanding Marisol's intentions. In mutual understanding, Sam led the way, and Marisol, appreciative of her stepmom's suggestion, followed suit. The night unfolded as an epitome of bliss, making it an unforgettable experience for both.

—

The following morning, Sam departed, leaving behind a trail of lingering kisses from Marisol. As the Cervantes girl descended the stairs with an elated smile, she couldn't contain her excitement, executing a spontaneous handstand in the kitchen just as Natasha and Mila entered through the front door. Natasha effortlessly scooped up Mila, who, with a scolding expression, warned, "Marisie, be careful!" Ignoring the caution, Marisol performed a handspring, prompting Mila to roll her eyes. "Out of the way, twerp. I have exciting news for Nattie," Marisol declared, ushering Mila to give her some space.

"Why can't I eavesdrop too?" she complained, a groan escaping her lips, and Marisol responded with a knowing look. "You're too young; now, off you go," Marisol waved her away dismissively. Undeterred, she let out a theatrical groan, sprinting upstairs to unleash a full-fledged tantrum.

Natasha, seizing the opportunity, declared, "You and skirt girl had an intimate encounter," and Marisol confirmed with a squeal of delight. Natasha's grin widened, acknowledging the achievement. "Good job!" she exclaimed, raising her hand for a high-five, sealing the celebration of the moment with the exuberant Cervantes girl.

"Come on, let's take a seat at the kitchen table," Natasha directed, gesturing Marisol to follow suit. They settled in, and with a smirk, Natasha prompted, "Spill the details—was it merely good, or did it transcend into the realms of amazing and magical?" Marisol, with a sigh of contentment, admitted, "Magical," eliciting a bright grin from Natasha.

Leaning in, Natasha continued her playful interrogation, "What was she like this morning?"

"I made out with her, and it felt amazing both times. We were in sync, and, well, I don't know... I feel like I love her."

As Natasha was about to delve into the next topic, a door slammed upstairs, interrupting the conversation. With an eye roll, she sighed, "Ugh, I'll be back," leaving a curious Marisol awaiting her return.

—

As Marisol reached her cheer camp, she noticed her dad engaged in conversation with Coach Aurelia. Suspicion furrowed her eyebrows, a worried knot forming in her stomach, fearing the possibility of him cheating on Natasha. Parking her car, she swiftly grabbed her cheer bag and briskly walked over to them. "Hey, dad," she chimed in, their alarmed expressions meeting hers. Cutting the conversation short, she asserted, "We'll talk about this later, Aurelia."

A discomfort gnawed at Marisol's gut, casting a shadow over her mood. George, sensing the tension, addressed his daughter, "Hey, Mars... I'll see you at home, okay? I-I need to get going," he rushed. Marisol raised her eyebrows, eyeing Coach Aurelia with hands on her hips.

"You better not wreck my stepmom and my dad's marriage. If you do, Natasha will literally sue your ass," she retorted sharply, glaring as she walked past with a forceful shove to Coach Aurelia's shoulder.

Moon awaited Marisol inside, and as the brunette walked in, Moon promptly linked arms with her. "Hey, Mari!" she exclaimed, but Marisol responded with a forced smile. Detecting something amiss, Moon regarded her with a suspicious look. "What's wrong?" she inquired.

"I suspect my dad is cheating on Natasha with Coach Aurelia. He hasn't been home much lately," Marisol confided, whispering. Moon's eyes widened, and she gasped quietly, exclaiming, "What?!"

  Marisol let out a sigh, her acknowledgment evident as she nodded. Moon, empathetic, gently rubbed Marisol's back. "Jeez, I'm sorry, Mars..." she expressed, a concerned frown on her face. However, Marisol's eyes sparked with inspiration, and her demeanor shifted.

"I have an idea..." Marisol trailed off, her lips curling into a cocky smirk. Moon observed her with curiosity, a slight smile playing on her lips. "What is it?"

Marisol leaned in, revealing her plan, "You come over tonight, sleep over... if my dad sneaks out, we follow him."

Moon's face transformed with excitement, and she cracked a grin. "Oh my god, yes!" Their shared anticipation created a sense of mischief and determination as they plotted to uncover the truth.

—

Marisol and Moon joined Mila at the dinner table that evening, with Natasha and George seated on either side. "How was your sleepover, sweetpea?" George inquired, prompting Mila to burst into laughter. "Oh my gosh! It was so fun!! We painted our nails, see!" Mila exclaimed, extending her hand to display their handiwork. While a bit sloppy, it radiated a certain charm.

"I love it, Mila! It's so... spiritual," Moon complimented with a hippie grin, earning a sarcastic smile from Mila. "Well, thank you, Moon. At least you like it. When Marisol saw them, she told me I need to get them done professionally," Mila recounted with a touch of humor.

Marisol couldn't hold back her laughter at Mila's pronunciation. "It's 'professionally,' not 'professally,'" she corrected with a teasing tone. Mila, visibly irritated, slammed her hands on the table. "STOP BULLYING ME! THAT'S BULLYISM!"

Marisol continued to laugh, finding Mila's reaction amusing. "Bullyism is not a word," she pointed out, earning a frustrated glare from Mila. "Ugh!"

"Mila, Marisol, stop fighting. We have a guest," George scolded them, his dad-serious look aimed at both of them, emphasizing the need for civility in front of their guest.

Marisol gave him an exasperated eye-roll, and George sighed. "All right, I have to get ready. I'm going over to Marcus' house again tonight. He needs help with his kiddos," he shared, sitting up and placing his plate in the sink. Moon and Marisol exchanged a knowing glance. "Uh, we're gonna head out to... Sam's. She needs our opinion on something," Marisol fibbed, addressing Natasha, while Moon bit the inside of her cheek, nodding along with the story.

Natasha's frown lingered. "Well... okay," she trailed off, considering the change of plans. Mila seized the opportunity, gasping with excitement, "Natttieee!! We should have another fun movie night!!"

Moon and Marisol rose from their seats, efficiently clearing their plates into the sink. Meanwhile, George, having already left in haste, prompted them to sprint outside, following his car.

As they discreetly trailed George, anticipation filled the air. However, the destination unveiled an unexpected twist—it wasn't Marcus' house.

—

ash speaks!

woo cliffhanger..

i think im gonna start making more original chapters!! what do you guys think??

im currently binging dance moms again and i luv kenzie and chloe sm. christi, nia and kelly from dance moms are definitely the best moms... for melissa she has her moments but idk. she always favored maddie, but idk abt now?? i see kenzies tiktoks and lives sometimes and it seems like they both treated equally now unless i missed something idek.

but i luv chloe sm. shes even gay?? like slayy!!! her and her gf is so cute. i see a lot of her gfs tiktoks abt her story on loosing her top lip. AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT KENZIE AND TACO?? they're gonna have their three years in august. they're the cutest. i love them sm.

edit: dec 2023... THEY BRIKE UP☹️

anyways thats my dancemoms ramble✨✨

thanks for 1k views on this book!!