liar! liar! liar! • bxb

2. 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝

×

They say old habits die hard, but in reality, they're immortal; reflected in things you do even long after you think you freed yourself from them.

"When was the last time we were at Gonzo's party?" Chevie shouted as his voice was being muffled by the rapid wind blowing through the open car window. They were driving back from a party and Drake decided it was a good idea to just smoke right there in the car instead of waiting those ten minutes it would've taken them to be back home, letting the cold wind blow inside along with blasting some ash from his cigarette back onto him.

"Like a year ago or something? Why?" a girl with short, red-dyed hair responded, readjusting a piercing in her nose with a silent 'ouch'.

"Shit, been a while, huh?" the blond replied, throwing the finished cigarette through the window and closing it, making everyone in the car sigh with relief. "I missed them, he always knows how to throw one."

"You're gonna miss your arm when we pass by something that will fucking dismember you if you don't stop smoking out the window like a shithead, Ford," the tall, dark haired girl driving the car added. "I'm being serious."

"Aren't you always serious, Mara," Chevie retorted. She was one of the only people to ever refer to him exclusively by Ford or Drake. He thought she must have something against Chevrolets, then. "I'm a man of calculated risks."

The red-haired girl snorted, but then she turned around to the back passengers as she felt an arm on her shoulder.

"What's up, Hayley?" she asked, turning to face the girl with golden make-up smeared over her face, the glitter sticking to every single part of her complexion.

"Cheryl, bitch, I gotta piss so bad."

Cher laughed and shook her head. "Mara, there's a side of the road you can stop at, soon," she said, to which Mara replied with a simple, silent 'aye aye'.

There they were, the merry bunch. Driving the car was Margaret "Mara" Meyer. Next to her seated was Cheryl "Cher" Hudson, and in the back there was Drake "Chevie" Ford and Hayley "Gem" Romero, though call her by her nickname and you'll end up with a busted nose.

Wellmane High was really serious about their nicknames, which followed the now twenty-year-olds into their adulthood. They doubted they'd ever shake them off, but they also considered it kinda fun to have those nicknames that meant things.

Drake Ford was unknown; Chevie was feared as the icon of destruction that would make or break people's lives on a whim.

Cheryl Hudson could ring a bell, but Cher, the feisty screaming fighter that challenged every single footbal team member to a fight, winning every single one, was much more memorable.

Margaret Meyer was an unassuming name, until you heard that it belongs to Mara - the girl that got into a fist fight with a teacher at the ripe age of fifteen and won, though she did have to change schools afterwards.

And Hayley Romero was memorable simply because she hated the nickname that stuck to her, Gem, which she earned by ingesting a stolen diamond ring that she stole off Janine Tills as a dare, their high school's most hated loud-mouthed bitch. But do not ask her about what happened to the ring afterwards - that's where the true origin of her nickname comes from.

They stopped at a small plain area near the road, letting Hayley go to do her own business.

"You know who else threw great parties?" Cheryl asked, lighting a cigarette as she leaned against the car's front door. "Johnny fuckin' Miller. Before he packed shit and ran."