Bad Boy, Good Kisses

Chapter 2

"I will kill all of you," I moan for the millionth time, lifting up my dress rather uncourtly to scratch my leg.

"Charlotte Sage. If you repeat that one more time, I swear to God—" Sam stops talking as Chloe lets out a small shriek.

I had thrown my stilettos at her. She barely catches one of them, the other landing in the middle of the road. "Charlotte!" she says indignantly, smoothing out her dress. "You have to wear them. They look super cute."

I glare at her. "They don't feel cute. I never wanted them. I don't know why you bought them for me in the first place."

She tosses them back to me anyway. "If they're hurting, they're working. So put them on before I hurt you."

I roll my eyes, but put them back on. The soles of my feet burn the moment my foot slips into the shoe.

I could've spent my Friday night doing a thousand better things than attending some lame school dance but with lots (and I mean LOTS) of pleading and begging, my friends had finally managed to drag me to this party that was going to end—undoubtedly—with a handful of teenagers waking up on the side of the road with a hangover the next morning.

Although I had zero desire to attend this school-sponsored rave—my friends had gone above and beyond to make sure I was here with them, two of them even ditching their dates to make this a strict GNO. Besides, I'd run out of cheap excuses over the years and because our junior year was finally coming to end, they were bringing me along whether I liked it or not—kicking and screaming.

It isn't that I don't like to have fun—don't get me wrong. I do. I'm just picky about who I party with. These are the same group of kids I've grown up with since Kindergarten. Twelve years of pure torture—girls had gone from "mean" to sluts. Boys from "jerks" to new levels of asshole. And it's always been that way. So when I say I'm not interested, I mean it.

Besides, guys don't hit on me. Period.

I was that girl. The one who finally gets approached by a cute guy—only to find out he wants her best friend's number.

Of course, there are a couple of nice people at Parkchester High School, most of them circulating in and out of my circle.

Chloe, Sam, Paige, and I were different. We've known each other since we were in diapers, and before we could utter our first words. Our parents were college buddies. It was the same old story. White city boys from Frat Houses hooked up with the Southern beauties from sororities—and BAM. The start of something beautiful. Over the years, our parents had gone their separate ways.  But we'd remained tight. Four little nerds in braids with a big attitude. We ruled our one-block wide world . Then middle school flew by, and Chloe's braids turned into a shiny new perm, her sister's old Jan Sport backpack into a purse from Gucci. Sneakers became high heels and t-shirts—pretty floral dresses. No one saw much of Paige in 9th and 10th grade. Boys flocked around her like sheep, following her around. And just like that—she became the pretty one. She knew she was hot and she rolled with that. By the end of every Valentine's Day, she'd have at least forty valentines just from the opposite gender. I think Sam is the only one still wears her hair in braids every day and t-shirts from middle school. Even I've changed, though it hasn't been as drastic as the others.

"Charrrr. Do you not hear me? Hello." Paige's voice brings me back into reality and I blink, staring at the boy she had linked to her arm. It was her latest boyfriend, Dawson Craig—quarterback of the Westchester Lions Varsity Football Team. She looks tiny next to him. It was the Hulk meets Sleeping Beauty as she leans over and kisses him smack on the mouth in front of us all.

Next to me, I feel Sam cringe slightly, and Chloe clears her throat when they don't stop.

"Sorry," says Paige, looking not at all sorry. "Anyway, I'm so glad you're actually here, Charlotte. The dance has already started and they've done really well with the décor. I'll meet you guys at the after party though, alright? D here can't come," she peers back at Dawson with a smile, affectionately.