Bad Luck (quinn hughes x oc)

XIV.

𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗

As Quinn stripped off his practice sweater, he reached into his cubby for his phone. Studs, who sat next to him, piped up, "Any word from your girl?"

Quinn had already corrected him a hundred times that morning, but he did it again, anyway: "She's not my girl yet."

Rolling his eyes, Studs leaned over to peer at Quinn's phone, where no text from Georgia was waiting.

Since last night, when Quinn and Georgia had laughed for hours at the diner, since they'd kissed at her car—Quinn had gotten radio silence. He had texted just once when he woke up—to say he couldn't wait to grab ice cream after Hoa's next game—but now he was starting to wonder if he'd pushed his luck too far. Last night, he was on top of the world, and now he felt as though everything was falling apart.

As if his brother could hear his thoughts from thousands of miles away, Quinn's phone buzzed to signal a message from Jack.

Messages

Conversation with Jacky Hughes

Jacky
yo did you end up hanging out with
that girl yesterday?

Quinn
yeah but idk i think i did something
wrong bc i haven't heard from her
at all today

Jacky
i mean its only like noon there 😂
what makes you think you did
something wrong?

Quinn
i mean i thought things were great.
we grabbed food,  made plans to see
each other again, now nothing.
do you think im being dramatic?

Jacky
you?? dramatic??? never.

Quinn
fuck off.
so you think i should just wait
it out? i already texted her this
morning. i don't wanna double text.

Jacky
let me see what i can do

Quinn
what?
...
...
yo what the fuck does that mean
...
jack.
jack, what are you doing
...
don't you fucking dare do
anything.

--------

𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙖

Notifications

jackhughes followed you on instagram.

instagram: direct message from jackhughes

For several long minutes, Georgia could only stare down at her phone, mouth hanging open. Why—on God's green earth—did Quinn's brother follow her on instagram? And why the fuck did he send her a message?

Before she could dwell on it—or even think to open it—Dmitri's face appeared above her cubicle wall. For the second time today, Georgia dropped her phone in surprise.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Did I scare you?"

Georgia scrambled to pick up her phone, waving him away with a hand. "No, no," she hurried, though she couldn't imagine Dmitri believed her. "What's up?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned to the side. "Just wondering if you've given any more thought to what I asked last night," he prompted, a smirk creeping over his lips. "Our date."