It All Started With A 'Please': A Sokeefe Story

3: Hunky, not Chunky

Two more hours left, Soph. Two more hours. You can do this. Yep. Totally. I thought to myself, drinking lemonade, and drowning in misery. Shane had been going from family to family talking about whatever they were talking about. 

That was when classical music started belting out and couples began to dance together. I sighed. Could this night get any cheesier?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and instinctively turned around. It was Keefe.

"Care to dance, m'lady?" He asked.

"I'm good." I growled, going back to my phone.

"Scardy cat." Keefe said.

"I'm NOT a scardy cat." I hissed.

"Prove it." 

"Why do you want to dance with me? There are at least 20 other girls my age here that keep gawking at you. Go dance with them."

"That is the reason, Foster. If I dance with you, maybe they'll take a hint." 

I relented and sighed. "5 minutes. Then you leave me alone. Deal?"

"Deal." Keefe said, or rather, squealed.

We moved to the dance floor, and I placed my hands on his shoulders as his fell on my waist. "Also, my name's Sophie. Not Foster."

"Technically... your name is also Foster." He pointed out.

"Keefe, that's my last name. People usually tend to go by their first names." 

"Excuse me, you're not allowed to call me Keefe. It's Lord Hunkyhair." He scoffed.

"Yeah... I'm not calling you that." 

"Yes you are."

"Fine, Lord Chunkyhair."

"I said Hunkyhair." Keefe corrected.

"Whatever you say, Chunkyhair."

Keefe opened his mouth to correct me, but that's when Shane showed up. "Can I cut in?" 

He said it more as a statement then a question.

Before Keefe could even respond, Shane nonchalantly jerked my hand so that I was facing him. Keefe walked away soon after. Shane stared at him until he left.

"Stay away from him." Shane warned me.

"Uh, what?" I asked. Did I hear him right?

"Don't talk to him ever again. Avoid him at all costs." He muttered; his gaze still focused on Keefe's retreating figure.

"Why?" He wasn't allowed to tell me who I could or couldn't talk to. But, if he had a good reason, I could consider listening to him. Key word: consider.

"He's not a good kid. He doesn't listen to his parents. He skips school, punks teachers. He's a bad influence. Need I say more? I don't want you hanging out with him."

"Yeah, whatever." 

"Now, m'lady, Sophie Foster, would thou give me the great honor of a dance?" Shane said in a funky British accent.

"Well, kind sir, Shane Wilson, it would be a shame if I said no, wouldn't it be?" I giggled, mirroring his accent.

"Well then," he said, hooking his arm around mine, "Please accompany me on the dance floor."

We swayed back and forth for what felt like hour. Soon, the 'party' ended. Shane dropped me home, and I flopped onto my bed.

Today had been weirdly exhausting. I met Keefe... and I didn't know how to feel about him. Shane told me that he was a bad person but if anything, he was just a bit annoying. He wasn't anything like a bad influence. In fact, he wasn't that bad to hang out with. Don't tell him I said that.

And believe or not, that's when it clicked. Keefe was the guy in my class. The guy that was on my class roster. Hooray. Totally looking forward to this school year.

The weird thing about our school was that our homerooms weren't based on our grades, but they were put together randomly, so my class could consider of juniors and seniors sometimes even sophomores. I was a junior this year and so was Shane. I don't think Keefe was a junior, because he wasn't in any of my classes. So... I'm guessing he's a senior.

I stepped into my bedroom and washed my face for what seemed like an hour. I didn't want any makeup on me. I changed out of my dress and into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. After pulling my hair into a low bun, I took my laptop and began filing all of the files for the real estate company I work for. I wasn't able to finish it during work and my boss needed it by tomorrow, so I was cramping it in in the last few hours before I hit the hay.

Procrastination for the win.

After a couple hours of doing work, I got a facetime from Shane.

"Heyyy." I said, accepting the call.

"Hi Soph."

He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, his brown hair was ruffled, and he was shirtless, lying in bed.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Does 8ish work for you tomorow? I need a ride to the airport and there's no one else I'd want to be stuck in a 45-minute car ride with but you." He winked.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Of course. I'll see you at your place at 7?" I asked.

"Yep, works for me. Thanks so much. Night Soph."

"Night."

Sorry for the short chapter and Merrrrry Christmasssssss. Hope you all had a good one. I'm almost done with the next chapter, so it'll be out ASAP. 

Let me know if you have any suggestions!

TheOneWithThePickles