Ashley ✓

Two | Dopamine

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SOTC: Burn by Ellie Goulding

"Spill. Now. How did you do it?" Brittany demanded, eager sparks electrifying her eyes.

"I'm not telling you."

Savannah took her milkshake straw from her mouth, bouncing in her seat in the back. "Come on, Ashley!"

"If you guys literally ask one more time, I'll have the football team jack off to your nudes," I seethed, consuming another bite of my burger.

After I left the cafeteria, I met with Jillian and Savannah to skip seventh period. It made sense to be friends with them; we're popular (for differing reasons, though), our dads were important, and we went to the same outrageously rich private school that luckily happened to not have nun-inspired uniforms. We had driven in Jillian's convertible to In-And-Out in Beverly Hills, where we now sat and ate our food in the packed parking lot.

Now onto Carmen Santiago.

She picked a really bad time to slam her lunch into me and babble an apology like a fucking idiot; everyone at Mother Teresa was bitching about how how boring school was and I was searching for a new high. To be more specific, a reminder to every student who Ashley Walker was.

So I made lemons into citric acid.

Luckily, we shared a class together. Carmen went to the bathroom a lot to make the bathroom smell like artificial strawberries, so when she did take her likely trip, I took her phone out of the cubby pretending it was mine to find dirt because everyone in the school is idiotic enough to have some. Luckily, she once typed in the password in front of me (no, the girl wasn't stupid enough to leave it unlocked), so I looked through every app until I found her compromising photos meant for her beloved boy toy.

So, y'know, I sent them to the football team.

Compared to my other crimes against those in Mother Teresa High School, I had never caused that much chaos.

But oh how worth it the act was when she and every student discovered the atrocity to be my doings.

I craved every second of it. From the way everyone in school wore crazed faces and shouted over each other the news as soon I walked through the door that morning. The way Callie Johnson's jaw dropped when her little speech was met by apathy.

When I knew my name throbbed in everyone's heads, the dopamine seared through my skin. I mean, kissing a security guard in front of his wife and children to get out of shoplifting last month never compared by a fraction.

I craved it all.

Because I was Ashley.

"You going to the party at Kayson's with us tonight?" Savannah asked me.

"And it's Kayson's," Jillian emphasized like he was Chris Hemsworth and not the replica of that stoner-surfer hybrid dude from Total Drama Island.

I ate a fry and adjusted Jillian's side mirror. My brown eyes drank in the sight of my longer jawline as I fixed the edges of my light fringe into long, straight, ash-blonde locks.

"Well?" Jillian said to me.

I turned my head to her, raising an eyebrow. "When have I ever said no to getting wasted on Saturday night?"

Savannah flipped her braid behind her back as she turned to Jillian. "By the way, has anyone ever told you that you sound like Kim Kardashian on helium?" she told her.

"Fuck you!" Jillian shouted at her.

"You both sound like a parakeet on a dildo when y'all laugh," I stated without hesitation.