Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter Seven

Long time no see? More like long time no update!  I'm so sorry for the literally half year wait on this story.  I had the biggest writer's block BUT it's gone!  TTAAL IS BACK! :)

This chapter isnt the greatest but keep in mind I'm trying to get back into the swing of the story.

Enjoy my lovies!! Xoxo

“I have so much homework to do tonight,” Gemma groans, “but no patience or energy to do it.”

I shift my cellphone from my left ear to my bed, tapping the speaker button in the process.

“You’re already failing three classes,” I remind her, “is your goal to get a zero as your GPA this quarter?”

I finish the last of my pre college calculus sheet and jam it back into my notebook for tomorrow.

“You know,” she starts, the accusation clear in her voice, “for a girl that constantly skips class you’re such a kiss ass.  When have you ever missed homework, Miss. 4.0 GPA?”

I roll over on my bed, my head hanging slightly off the end, a smirk on my lips.  “That’s Miss. 4.6 GPA to you, as of last quarter.”

“Is that even possible?” Gemma breaths into the phone bewildered, “you’re the hottest nerd I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I pick up my pencil in my hand and begin to wiggle it between my thumb and pointer finger.

“Back to the dilemma,” she reminds, “I’m failing three classes and we can now make that four as of today.”

“Has Mr. Collins finally figured out you’re really hooking up with Landon in the locker room for forty minutes instead of practicing your volleyball serve?” I ask, half-joking, half serious.

“God no,” she says through a laugh, “It’s French class.”

I furrow my brows.

“How come?  You’re amazing at French.  You speak it fluently.”

She scoffs into the phone, “Well why don’t you try to pay attention for forty minutes when your new partner is Triton Palatas, the Greek God look-alike murderer?”

I lose the grip on my pencil and it falls from my fingers, hitting me in the face.  I ignore it, already feeling the coldness take over my body. 

“Really,” I say lightly, trying to play my sudden hesitation off coolly, “You have a class with him?”

“Just French, unless you want to count lunch too.”

“Just French,” I repeat.

“Do you have any classes with him?” She asks.

“English.”

She lets out a low whistle.  “Ouch.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask a little too demanding.

“Down girl,” she jokes, “Don’t you have that class with Thayer already? And Declan and Tyler?”

I roll back onto my stomach and pick at the white comforter beneath me.  “Yeah, what’s your point?”

“By the looks I’ve seen today; it seems Thayer isn’t really Triton’s number one fan.”

If only she knew.

I hear the muffled shut of the front door down stairs along with a deep voice.

“I’ll talk to you later, my mom’s calling me,” I say flatly.