"I'm so fancy! You already know! I'm in the fast lane. From LA to Tokyo," I belted out in my not so magnificent voice.
Tap! tap!
"Open the window," a voice called out. I stopped mid song and looked out.
Guess who it was?
Brandon. Brandon Davidson.
The one most feared yet loved badboy of our school.
I opened up the window and looked up at him. "Yeah?"
"Relax on the singing, Cindy. Your singing killed my dog," he said.
"Do you even have a dog?" I countered.
"Y-No," he looked down.
I burst out laughing. I don't know why. But I did. Maybe it's because I hadn't spoken to him in so long. Or maybe someone slipped something in my chocolate cake. But I just found my day extremely weird.
I mean I sang everyday. What made him choose today as a good day to criticize my singing.
Once I sobered up, I asked him the million dollar question," What do you want?"
"What do you mean? Why would I ask for something? Do I look like the kind of person to talk to someone just so I could get something out of it?" He gasped dramatically. I raised my eyebrow. He pursed his lips," Guess I do then."
"Look me and Chase need help." He said like it was hard to believe.
"I know you do," I said dryly.
He rolled his eyes," Not like that, I mean we need you to drive us to a party,"
"Are you out of your tiny, probably non-existent mind!" I asked incredulously.
"Come on please? It's just to Jason's house and back," he asked, after not so subtly ignoring my insult, attempting to do puppy dog eyes.
"I am not your chauffeur," I held on to the lever of the window tempted to close it and end this conversation. I should've known the popular guys would only talk to me if they were short of a ride. And not that kind of ride.
"Look, if you drive us, you get a free invite," he bribed.
"Yes, because I'm dying of going to a party full of sweaty, horny teenagers hosted by some guy who has no idea I even exist," I said sarcastically.
He sighed. "God, you're being so annoying right now," he dragged his palms across his face. Then he gathered his composure and plastered a smirk on.
"If you give us a ride. I'll give you a ride. If you know what I mean," he winked.
I burst out laughing. I love innuendos like these. They bring me life but for the sake of whatever argument we were having I decide to drag it along.
"God... when will this conversation be over?" I asked. Even though arguing with this guy is incredibly amusing, wasting my mouth's energy by talking instead of eating is definitely not.
"As soon as you agree," he replied.
"Ugh fine. Just don't bug me till Friday and I'll be fine," I finally gave in.
"Wear something hot, Mickey," he winked and shut his window thus, ending our delightful conversation. Note the sarcasm.
~~~
There's something unsettling in the pit of my stomach. I'm quite the romantic. I especially like bad boy books. my situation has lately has been quite similar to most girls in those scenarios. So butterflies would be normal after a conversation with the bad boy, right? Then why don't I have butterflies? Even if I did, they could never compare to encounter with Chase.
~~~
It's Friday. Yes. Friday as in the day of Jason's party. Its not big deal. I'm just the chauffeur except I actually have to attend the party. Which means I have to actually try to look presentable.
Brandon told me he'd be coming over to my house to help me choose my clothes since I don't exactly have tons of girlfriends to help in this.
It's afterschool right now. I tend to zone out during most of the day so time seems to fly by quite quickly.
Ding dong!
I run down to the door. Its more to make sure that my mom doesn't open the door and ask me questions than it is to see Brandon.
Of course, life loves to mess with me and decided to replace Brandon with Chase.
Ofcourse.
"Brandon was ..um.." he coughed awkwardly, " busy."
I made a disgusted face ," Do I even want to know?"
He smiled sheepishly," Probably not."
"Well, you're here to help me right?" I asked.
"Yep. Although this isn't really my domain. I can't really help you in the clothes problem." he said.
I sighed. " We'll see what you're capable of," I said as I trudged upstairs and into my room.
I took out different outfits from my wardrobe asking him for his expertise. After all, I've never been to these parties and he has. He know what girls wear.
So far, everything I show him merely gets a response of:
"No."
"Too Revealing."
"You're not a prostitute."
Or
"We're going to a highschool party not a strip club."
I sighed after I cleared everything out of my closet. " I'm not going to dress like a nun, Chase."
"Ugh fine." he said as he stood up from my chair and walked towards my closet and after searching a little bit, he pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater.
I stared at him disbelievingly, " You're joking, right?"
I walked over to him, pulled out my clothes from his hand threw them onto my bed and searched for something else.
And that's how I spent 3 hours with Chase Looking for clothes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know. I know. I'm soooooooooooo late but I've been so busy and frankly, very lazy so I just wasn't feeling up to it. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.
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happy reading <3
