The Tuxedo Man (boyxboy)[Wattys 2016]

Chapter 4 - Goodness Gracious

[Picture: Cassidy Ivy Prescott. Video: I'm Yours - Alessia Cara]

"It'll be fine." I shrug. "If my parents do kill me, then it would have been worth it." 

"Savage." Mason remarks, I raise an eyebrow at him but then proceed to ignoring what he just said. 

"If I'm still not home by seven, then my parents would have thought that I was dead and they'd probably alert the SWAT team or something." Ruth says. Cassie agrees with her, but we all knew that Cassie had probably the most powerful curfew known to mankind, where she really has to let her parents know if she's going to be home a few minutes late than she usually does. 

I seriously didn't know if I was going to go on this "date" with Dylan, since it's scheduled a little late in the night. It would have been fine if we hung out around five, or right after class was done, but seven really does seem a little risky, considering the fact that I barely know the guy. For all I knew, he could be this serial killer, or a guy who kills his dates and wears their skin or something. Yeah, I apologize for that mental image. 

Ella finally speaks after dozing off while she looks straight ahead at the trees behind us. "You should probably bring someone with you, someone to make sure that everything's fine." 

I roll my eyes. "I would if I had someone who could." 

The rest of them shrug, because none of these girls could really stay up that late just because they were going to make sure that their best friend was fine and not going to be killed by an attractive man in a suit. I love them, I swear. 

We stand silently in a circle a couple of feet by the parking lot, since all of them are going to be heading home soon. Astrid, Ruth and Cassie live a little far away, compared to Ella, Mason and I who live in close proximity within the school. The three of us usually walk home, although on occasions Ella gets picket up by her parents. We let the quiet fill the spaces between us, and I just look at the students walking in pairs or in groups, checking out some of the cute freshmen who were probably straight and were probably too young for me to be dating anyway. And of course, that massive herd of cows and bulls that call themselves the Great Bang come into sight, laughing obnoxiously with their stupid Gucci bags and Michael Kors. Who the fuck brings a Michael Kors to school? What the fuck does that make you? Does it carry your books better? Does it helps you with your posture? No, bitch. No. All you're actually doing is asking to get robbed or mugged, and I hope they do on their way home. (I'm kidding- not really.) One of the girls notice us, but she doesn't say anything about it. It's typical, and we're getting used to it. I'm just excited to see their faces when each and every one of us become more successful than they are in the future, and it would be delightful if they were to come to us and ask for help, and it would fill me with immense joy to ignore them the way they are doing with us now. 

It's nearing five-thirty in the afternoon, and the sky starts blending into the familiar dark orange we all know, because we see it on instagram all the fucking time (which I'm guilty of). I resist the urge to take a picture of the beautiful sunset, because I already have a folder dedicated to them on my phone, and almost three-quarters of the photos are the ones I haven't posted yet. So don't worry, my instagram followers, there are still a lot of sunset and sunrise photos for me to post. These girls should really be getting home, and I should really make up my mind if I'm going to be taking my chances with this Dylan Callaghan who just so happens to wear a suit every fucking day.

What if he's a hitman? 

No. What the fuck, Braydon. 

I snap my fingers, calling the attention of the friends I've gathered around in a circle who were either daydreaming or on their phone. "Alright girls, let's go home."