Chapter Four : Party Pooper
"Are you going to the acquaintance party?" Tom eyed me with curiosity in those beady ruby eyes of his.
I clicked my tongue at him and hissed. "Me? Are you even going to ask that?"
I huffed, crossing my arms at him to prove a stupid point. "The last thing people would want is a "witch" who'd curse the party and turn them all into slimy frogs and gremlins---which doesn't sound bad if you ask me."
"Plus, what would I benefit from it amigo? Would I suddenly be the "star" of the night with every guy gawking and having a mysterious dance and somehow end up like Cinderella with her lost shoe?"
When he was rendered speechless by my amazing speech, I snort. "So what? Cat got your tongue bud?"
He blinked, trying to analyze and sink in the words I just left hanging and then he flashes me a chirpy grin. "You're chatty today. I'm taken aback."
I sigh. "Seriously, were you even listening to what I said?"
He ponders, like he was thinking pretty deeply about it. "About the Cinderella right?"
I groan, flinging my hands to the back of my head. "You're hopeless. Utterly hopeless."
It has been a week since Tom transferred to our school. Of course with his charms and good looks--like every high school book written by a hormonal teenager who has nothing but posters of their idols----
I'm getting out of topic. Anyway, he immediately became popular by the blink of an eye and every girl would check him out when he didn't even seemed bothered.
Some people would be darting their piercing gazes at me, often whispering that I bewitched Tom, that I hypnotized him into being my friend and while they all chatter, no one could help it.
Tom is going to stick by my side, and that gave people the disadvantage.
Not like I think it's a blessing at all. Oh please, I can shove him in a bag and hand it to you while you elope to the countryside.
"I'll go with you," he offered, as if it was negotiable in the first place.
I snicker. "No thank you. How about you invite some other girl? I bet they're dying to ask you out."
He sighed, then ran down his finger across his slick blonde hair. "I won't go if you won't."
I shot a brow at him, frowning. "For the love of god--just go and stop being a whiny piss! I'm not your babysitter and I'm sure as heck not your mother!"
"But it's not going to be fun if you're not there," he pouted, puckering his lips weirdly.
I scrunched my nose at him. "Define fun, Beckett. You sure have some twisted definition of fun."
"Well, I apologize if this 'crazy' guy wants to invite you to the party," he flashes me his boyish smile that would have enamored the girls nearby. "--I want to enjoy the party with my best friend, so is that really bad?"
