The Gossip Guys (ON HIATUS)

Chapter Six: Mom...LEARN TO TYPE WOMAN.

Becca’s P.O.V.

  I didn’t understand why Dee had freaked so much when I told her I was going to be late. I knew what I was getting myself into, and it was my body after all. I didn’t understand why she had to come and pick me up, humiliating me to no end. I didn’t understand why she told me she was helping me, when I saw it as a punishment. I didn’t understand why she wanted me to never see him again.

  Now I do.

  Draven was a no good dirty rotten (pig stealing (;) liar.

  I have never been more thankful to have Delilah as my friend, than the day she rescued me from giving my virginity to the boy who had nailed twenty three girls, thirteen of them pregnant, in the past twelve months we’d been dating. I had no intentions of ever seeing him again, and I owe it all to the girl who was currently using a nail file on an oyster shell. Literally.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Lilah?”

  “It was broken, so I’m just smoothing it out,” she said, as if it was normal.

  “You’re insane, you know that?”

  “I’ve been told.”

  “Now did you want to get ready for the date we’ve been planning all week, or did you want to go in your painting smock?”

  “Oh! No! I almost forgot Ohmygod!” She ran into her room like a lunatic, and ripped off the enlarged tee-shirt she had been wearing under a pair of oversized coveralls.

  Shimmying into one of her favorite red dresses, she huffed.

  “I don’t even know where we’re going!”

  “I don’t know…”

  “I swear to god if this boy takes me to a food fight in this dress I’ll kill him.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t wear that dress.”

  “Do I look fat?!” she worried.

  “No, not at all, but with these boys you never know what they’re doing.”

  “That’s so true though.” She took off the dress and walked into her closet. “Can you please text him and ask where we’re going? Don’t make it sound like I’m asking… Just...”

  “No problem,” I laughed. I tapped a few words onto the screen easily, and I pushed my phone back into my pocket. Within a few minutes, I had a reply. “He says to tell you not to worry; he’s just taking you to Olive Gardens, and then maybe a movie or something.”

  “Olive Gardens?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well then how’s this?”

  She stepped into the room in a blue and white floral skirt, a loose-fitted white tucked in shirt and a navy colored blazer over it.

  “Perfect. Now come over here and let me do your hair.”

  I pulled her hair up into a really high ponytail, and gave her a decent amount of bangs. I pulled her over to the makeup desk in her bathroom (Yes, we have our own bathrooms) and turned on the curler.

  “While that’s heating up, we need some music.”

  I switched on my iPod, and the first song to start playing was Yeah! By Usher.

 We bobbed our heads to the beat, singing the few words we knew, and danced around in the bathroom.  The next song to come on was Low by Flo Rida featuring T-Pain. Somewhere towards the end, I started laughing hysterically at the line ‘shawty was hot like a toaster’. I mean really, why would you compare a woman to a toaster?