carapherneila. (m.c)

chapter 13. the guessing game.

Regan's P.O.V

I guess you could say I'm somewhat popular.

But aren't we all?

They know my name, maybe even my face, but not my story.

But there is two things everybody knows me for:

1. I'm the most gorgeous, popular, and perfect girl's best friend.

2. I'm a notorious troublemaker.

This time, everybody is paying attention to me because I'm Peyton's best friend.

It's fall, and we all know what that means...

Peyton's annual Halloween Bash.

Being her best friend has its privileges sometimes honestly, one being I am Vice Chief Executor of almost all parties, events, and gatherings at the Dexton household.

Her mom even asks me to help plan her galas and lunches, even formal events.

The Halloween Bash is a huge thing, people practically kill to get an invite.
She's been throwing them ever since 5th grade, of course they've gradually gotten bigger and bigger each year based on the school size, amount of friends, and of course Pey's popularity. Being the homecoming queen, prom queen, captain of the cheer team, gorgeous, rich, and pretty much perfect, popularity has never been a struggle for Peyton Dexton.

She has a gigantic party for nearly every holiday! She has her own fireworks on the Fourth of July, a 12 foot Christmas tree for Christmas, every birthday, Halloween, any achievement of hers, and don't even try to get me started on New Years Eve.

When I say these parties are big, I mean so big that she invited the President of the United States to her sixteenth birthday party... and he actually came...

We take major advantage of planning these things too.

Almost every day the month of the party is one big sleepover, we bribe the smart people to do our assignments with invites, we use her dad's private jet to go places to buy outfits and get inspiration, and one her chaffers is available at any time of the day by just the snap of her fingers practically.

It's October 1st and were sitting on the floor of Peyton's lavish bedroom drafting our party ideas.

When I say that her room is lavish, I mean it's so giant and incredible that it puts Regina George's to shame.

(a/n: I suggest you google Regina George's bedroom now)

We have head sets, magazines, notebooks, a case of gel pens, laptops, hot chocolate, music and google translate. Were ready to go.

We have staging and lighting done already, now I'm working on invitations, and Peyton is trying to find a French pastry chef willing to make thousands of macaroons in about a month.

I finish adding the final details to the invites on my laptop and turn the device to face Peyton who is angrily speaking French to someone.

I would hate to be on the other end of that phone call...

She's a 5'3, platinum blonde cheerleader, but damn, that girl can yell when she's upset...

She drops her iPhone out of her hands, causing it to drop onto the floor and probably crack, and let's out a small shriek. Nearly flying across the room and attacking me from my position on the bed.

She gives me a bear hug and a quick friendly kiss on the cheek before regaining composure and resuming her phone call with the French baker on the other end of the line.