Arranged...WHAT?!

Chater 11, Part 2- Waking Up

Chapter 11, Part 2-

Jason’s POV:

I pulled into the school on my bike, instantly being surrounded by all the popular people. I’m not exactly fans of them, but there’s nothing less appealing, and the guys are good company, usually. The girls are just sluts, so I just ignore their lame attempts to ‘seduce’ me… more like try to trigger my gag reflex.

Pushing away the tired feeling that’s been hacking away at me, I plaster a fake smile and meet everyone. “Hey, guys what’d I miss this weekend?” I directed toward the guys, doing everything to stay away from the girls as much as possible by doing everything besides telling them to go away, and I rolled my eyes when I heard some of them whisper, ‘playing hard to get. that is like, so sexy’, right before pulling down their tops down even lower, to where it threatened to have their whole chest fall out.

The guys started talking about the other big football team from a few counties over and I got lost in the conversation immediately. We have two months until the state championships, and both of our teams are the only ones that even have a chance of winning. All the other teams suck, and hardly try because they know we’ll clobber them either way.

Now this is something I could waste my time on.

That evil bell sounded after about ten minutes of talking, and just as it was going off Rick pulled into the lot. I figured he’d have been here right after me. I wonder what stalled him?

“Yo man, what took you so long? We’d left at the same time.”

My answer came in the form of a steaming mocha latte in a starbucks cup that appeared in his hand from out of the car. “Take a guess. I dunno bout you, but I’m dead tired.”

“This is why you’re my best friend.” I said thankfully as I eagerly snatched the cup from his grasp. Coffee is so something I could use right now.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah? Then let’s not make the awesome best friend late to class shall we?” He looked around to make sure no one was listening and when he deemed it clear he whispered to me inconspicuously, “We’re agreed on not saying where we’re staying, right?”

“Yeah totally, keep it on the down-low,” I confirmed with a brief nod and equally whispered voice.

With that we headed to our separate homerooms with the rest of our ‘cool’ peers.

-(*@*)-

I was on my way to homeroom, late because of the little ‘incident’ in the hallway, caused by a Stacy, the head cheerleader, and as cliché as it is, she was the complete stereotype of a queen bee, or as us guys put it- queen B for b*tch.

-------------Flashback-----------------------

Just reaching halfway across campus to my homeroom the hallways were already nearly empty, with most people in their classes.

My footsteps echoed along with a few other people’s as they headed to wherever the heck they’re going. As I put up my ‘player’ façade for the day, I started caring less and less about whatever other people thought, and thinking more and more about me. I still had a slight hold on reality, but it wasn’t very strong, and would no doubt leave as soon as the word ‘football’ comes up in a conversation.

This feeling is almost like a hi. It feels like I’m on some super-drug. I’m on the top of the world. I unconsciously lift my head up higher, put up a smirk on my face even though no one’s here to see it but is still there, and walk with an air that says ‘I’m all that, so back off’.