I Meet the Mutt [CURRENTLY BEING EDITED]

5 | Oops, She Did it Again

The following Saturday, I woke to a little bit of screaming and pounding on the front door. What the hell was going on? It sounded like the whole freaking Navy was outside my door. 

Grabbing the closest sweatshirt, I drowsily walked to the stairs while peering at my phone. Nine-thirty? I never woke up this early. Someone better have a good reason for waking me up.

I didn't really know what to think, though, when I saw Victoria standing by the door continually screeching, "SHUT UP!" and the doorbell ringing endlessly. She wasn't accomplishing anything, as the more Victoria yelled, the more pounding and ringing there was. 

"Hey," I said. When Victoria paid me no heed, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, "HEY." 

She turned around, exasperated and frustrated, so I gestured wtf to her. 

"There are three really irritating people on our doorstep and some Indian girl won't stop ringing the fucking bell."

"HALF-INDIAN YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I vaguely heard from outside. I had to stifle a laugh at how hilarious this situation was. Victoria rarely ever had the fortune of interacting with my friends, and Emma enjoyed being as aggressive as she could when they did. 

I jogged to the front door, wrenching it open to reveal Logan, Ian, and Emma. The two guys looked so awkward it was funny, whereas Emma looked like she was having the time of her life. I didn't even want to know how long this had been going on. 

Bowing, I said to them, "Mi casa es tu casa."

"These your friends?" Victoria questioned disdainfully.

"Yes, we are, and if you've got a problem with that, there's a doorbell here that just keeps asking to be rung," Emma snapped icily, her tone filled with loathing. 

Victoria was pretty taken aback, but she recovered like always and responded coldly, "Well, break the doorbell and you're paying for it. I don't know if your taxi-driving parents could afford that though."

Okay, that was just cruel and racist. I opened my mouth to tell her off, but Logan beat me to the punch. 

"Why don't you fuck off? I know you think your comebacks are so good, but using the most basic, stereotypical racist shit only makes you look stupid." His fists were clenched, a bad sign that he was pissed off and ready to fight. Logan was on the wrestling team. I'd lay a big bet that he'd win.

Realizing she was outnumbered and losing this argument, Victoria rolled her eyes and sauntered away. She loved getting the last word but it was smart she just left without saying anything. Logan wasn't known for having a very high tolerance of ignorance.

Speaking of whom, he was currently putting an arm around Emma and saying, "You alright?"

"Fine. Not like I haven't heard that one before," she said breezily. I could see that she was still hurt, and Logan sensed that too by pulling her into a hug. A purely friendly hug, right?

Ian and I had a conversation that went somewhere along the lines of wishing the friendly PDA would end already. 

"By the way, you look terrible," Emma observed, sizing me up. "Did you just wake up?"

"Yes, and now I'm going back to sleep," I told her, whirling around to go to my bed, my favorite object in the entire world. 

However, I was stopped in my tracks when Ian snatched onto my sweatshirt. "Nope. We've got some Mutt work to do."

I groaned again. "Seriously? I'm sick of him. You don't know how agonizing it was to be in his presence yesterday. I'm still recovering, guys."

Emma frowned. "From what he said the other night, don't you think there's more to him? More than a pretty face and a handsome bod?" We began walking upstairs to my room, where Emma and I took to the bed and the two guys sat on beanbag chairs.