Signed /Dream Team/

10

I look down at my phone as George and Nick leave. They talk to Clay for a few seconds which makes him roll his eyes and walk up to me.

As he gets closer, the other two get farther and farther away. I can't help but feel intimidated when he takes a seat next to me. This whole thing seems sketchy.

It takes him a minute to finally speak.

"Hey."

He must be kidding me. I didn't just wait a minute for him to say hey.

"Hi," I have no other choice but to go with this stupid conversation.

"I didn't mean to call you a bitch," he has the nerve to repeat the word and put an emphasis on it. And he's fucking smirking too.

"I don't think that's how you rehearsed it with Nick," I can't hide the disgust on my face, "now try to make it more believable."

"You're asking for way too much at this point," he's definitely only apologizing cause Nick forced him to. He's not even apologizing.

"It's not that hard," I shake my head.

"Well then maybe you can demonstrate?"

So he's only here to hear me apologize. That makes more sense. That fits his egotistical character more.

"You want me to apologize?" There's a smile of disbelief on my face.

"Only because you think it's so easy."

Both of us knew that he was not getting an apology out of me in this situation. He made his "apology" offensive, I don't even know how that was possible but he did it. Besides, he didn't even include the word sorry in it.

However, I don't think being predictable is ideal when dealing with people like him. I think I found the solution.

"I'm sorry, Clay. What I said was none of my business and tasteless, I should've known better."

And that's how you stun an asshole. With kindness.

He looks at me with slightly knitted brows. Probably repeats my words in his head to see what's the catch, but I know he won't find anything cause my words were genuine.

The satisfaction that builds in me just from seeing his lips part and shut close from the loss of words is ten times better than what I would get from starting a fight with him. He doesn't know what to say. That's a victory for me.

"What? Didn't expect me to actually do it?" I stand up to be able to tower over him while he stays seated, "I'm better, Clay. I'm so much better and you can't stand it. You'd much rather see me act like a jerk like you."

He hates my guts. I see it in his eyes as I speak. And I see his jawline pop out from pressing his teeth together. If I keep this pressure on him for a bit longer, he'll probably break a few of his teeth.

"You're not better-"

"You wish I wasn't," I laugh, "you wish I didn't apologize. You wish I kicked you out of my house so you could have a reason to call me a bitch again. But you know what? Enjoy your stay."

He looks destroyed at this point. The pattern of his breathing has changed. If he had a knife, he'd jab it in my chest. He can't tolerate kindness and that's fucking hilarious.

I turn around and walk confidently to where Nick and George were seated. They stand up seeing me and start walking as well so that we meet sooner.

The first thing they say is the thing I expected to hear.

"Did he apologize?"

"Yeah," I smile.

"Did he do it properly?" Nick raises his brows in disbelief. He probably spent hours forcing Clay to apologize.

"Yes," my smile is scaring me. I didn't know I had it in me.

The confusion on their faces makes me feel bad, but we have what we have. If I tell them the truth, they'll probably force him to apologize properly again. And I don't want that. I don't need his apology. Seeing his baffled face from my act was way better than a genuine apology.

"Why didn't he come with you?" George asks, looking behind me and seeing that Clay was still on the bench.

"I don't know, probably still recovering from the apology. Took a lot of courage to do it," I chuckle as they laugh. Only if they knew.

I can't possibly waste more of my day on this stupid situation. I had a lot planned for today and I'm not looking forward to delaying my plans. Good thing it's still early in the morning.

I spotted a bar down the street that was hiring bartenders. I've worked as one for quite a while, I think it would be great if I sorted my job situation this early on. I need a source of money, I cannot forever rely on lying to sugar daddies that we'll meet up one day and fake my death.

I excuse myself for not waiting and head home. They can wait for Clay for as long as they want to, I need to shower and get ready. And one thing I learned from applying for jobs as a bartender is the sluttier you look, the higher your chance of getting hired. It shouldn't be that hard of a task, I'll just try to look more like my mother.

It's such a relief when I find the way back home. I was certain that I'd make at least three wrong turns, but the fact that I only made two sounds like progress to me.

You know what's not progress? The fact that I don't know how hot water works in this house and if there is hot water to begin with. We don't have the heating problem figured in this house, I have no idea what's the heating source. Is it a furnace? Is it something else? I don't know. Nobody taught me those things. All my mother taught me is how to walk on 7 inch heels.

Long story short, I showered with cold water and almost died of muscle spasms. And looking at the mirror I have one question. If I put red lipstick on my blue lips, will it make purple?