Chapter 6- One Has Frosting, The Other Doesn't

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Chapter 6- One Has Frosting, The Other Doesn't

Jace's Point of View

“How’s your mom’s place?” Chace asks me Monday morning as we walk into the school building together.

“It sucks,” I deadpan truthfully. “I don’t think that I’ve ever been so ready for my dad to come back home.” I mutter.

“Why? Your mother’s house is awesome,” He notes, referring to the one time he went there like, five years prior.

“Not really,” I disagree. “Now that she’s with Alec though, it sucks even harder,” I inform him.

Chace and I’ve been friends the longest, between myself, Chace and Jonathon. I met Chace in the sixth grade. He and his family had just moved here from some little murky town in Florida. I think we met sometime in the middle of the year, because I specifically remember meeting him with a broken arm. That year I’d broken my arm on Spring Break to Cape Cod with my dad and his girlfriend, Elise or something like that. Anyway, I met him around that time and he, like me, was pretty quiet and kept to himself, so we became pretty fast friends, I guess. And we’ve been since then.

“What’s wrong with Alec?” Chace queries, walking parallel to me down the crowded school corridor.

“Everything,” I scoff. “I mean, for starters; he’s from France.”

“So what? You don’t like Frenchmen?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess,” I shrug. “But like, his name is Alec. That’s not even a French name.” I exclaim.

“You’re ridiculous,” Chace chuckles.

“No, I’m not; he’s the ridiculous one.” I argue.

“So, you don’t like him because he doesn’t have a French name?”

“No, that’s not all. I mean, he’s annoying and he’s always like, kissing my mom in front of me.”

“You poor child,” Chace dramatically mocks me, leaning against a random locker as we get to mine.

“Yeah, I know,” I retort. “My dad’ll be home on Wednesday though, luckily.”

“I don’t see why you just didn’t stay with your mom in the first place- she’s much cooler than your dad.”

“Nah, not really. Plus, my dad’s pretty cool, I guess. He did bail you and Jonathon out of jail.” I remind him

“Oh yeah, he did.” Chace recalls, swinging his bat around as I pull my locker open.

“Do you have to do that?” I ask, putting my stuff in my locker from my backpack.

“Do I have to do what?” He asks nonchalantly, still twirling the bat.

“Swing that bat like it’s a baton or something.” I reply as the warning bell rings.

“Oh, well, yeah, I do.” Chace assures me, still playing with his bat.

“Jace, your sister wants to know if she can have a ride home,” Jonathon says, suddenly beside us, at his locker.

“I don’t have a sister,” I remind Jonathon, taking out my morning classes binders and textbooks.

“Anna?” Chace interjects, raising an eyebrow.

“Is not my sister,” I finish the sentence for him.

“Yeah, well, she may as well be.” Jonathon corrects, tossing stuff into his locker.

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