I Don't Like Badboys...Seriously | ✓

Chapter Thirty - I Hate Coincidences

Chapter Thirty – I Hate Coincidences

It was Friday morning, and I still didn't have a dress.

I was fairly certain that launch parties were a formal event, but how formal exactly? I could go out later, but I needed to be sure of the dress code; there was no point in buying a dress and then having to go exchange it the next day. I liked being prepared, and buying a dress the morning before an event was pushing it. Hell, the night before was pushing it.

"What's the dress code exactly?" I asked Archer, turning away from the equilibrium questions that called for my attention.

"Don't worry about it," he replied.

I knew it; Archer was going to play Prince Charming again, and based on past experiences, he wasn't one to hold back on spending money.

"You don't need to buy me a dress," I said quickly. "I am a total expert at shopping for nice bargains."

"Don't flatter yourself you worry wart," he laughed. "Downtown Ninety Seven is taking care of our attire. It's a work perk."

That was one nice work perk. There was no way anyone on a regular paycheck could afford clothing from there on a regular basis, unless of course they enjoyed swiping their credit cards.

Looking around my chemistry class, it was very clear to me that there was someone missing. Hunter. His usual messy blonde hair was missing from the front row. He had never missed a day of school before; was he sick? He wouldn't have wagged. What would he have done with a day off anyway? All his mates were still at school, and as far as I was aware, he didn't have any close friends outside of school. Then again, I wouldn't know.

Sadly, sport was eventually going to roll around, and it was safe to say there was no class I dreaded more than it. Perhaps if I was more athletic, or maybe if it didn't feel like a slow method of torture, I would have enjoyed it a lot more. Another huge annoyance was the fact that I had to get changed before and after sport.

Fortunately, the only slightly positive part of it was the fact that people rarely passed the ball to me anyway, which meant I wouldn't have to do much.

"Keen for sport?" Ella joked.

"Seriously? You've known me for six years. The joke's getting a bit old." I shook my head slowly. "I can't believe Dean is into this kind of humour."

"Who isn't?" She laughed. "How's your love life?"

"What love life?"

"What do you mean what love life?" She exclaimed. "Hunter confessed to you! What're you going to say to him?"

"Holy crap Ella!" I shrieked. "Did you want to say that any louder? The entire changeroom heard!"

"No, of course not. Then the whole school would have heard, silly," she giggled.

"You are insufferable."

"And that's why you love me."

"Only Dean loves you," I grinned.

"Anyway, better think of an answer for Hunter soon, right?"

Thinking of an answer for Hunter was exactly what I was doing when I realised after putting on my sport shorts that I had forgotten my shirt. I didn't need a yard duty for forgetting my uniform. I was mere weeks away from finishing high school with a spotless record.

"I forgot my shirt," I groaned.

"Who knew? The burden of love is clearly too much for my genius friend. You've forgotten your shirt; in six years, that's a first."