Trouble's Favorite

Chapter 17

“It was your fault!”

“Why the hell on earth did you do that?”

“Were you out of your mind?”

“That’s ridiculous!”

My friends were telling me this for the past half hour. It’s annoying how they put ALL the blame on me. It’s absurd!

     “Fine. If you say so,” I told them, finally giving up. “But really, guys, it was just partly my fault.”

     Maki’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Are you insane?! Everybody know it’s a lie, Chloe! It was your fault why Drake’s mad at you!”

     “It’s not my problem anymore. It’s his. HE made the decision. I don’t care.” Well that was a very stupid lie.

     “Now who do you think would take you to the prom?”

     Simple answer for a simple useless question, “I could go with Kean. Or even alone. I don’t actually mind.”

     “Okaaaaaay, stop it. It’s not our loss, it is Chloe’s. She decides whether or not to talk to Drake,” Megan interrupted. “Change topic. Clear your appointments next weekend; were booked.”

     “Clear appointment? Bbb-booked?!” Dona choked.

     “It’s my cousin’s 18th birthday, she told us to go there and perform,” she explained.

     I took a gulp. “And by perform you mean?” I curiously asked her.

     “Sing, guitar, piano — and all those shit? Yeah, like band or something.”

     “NO.” We all replied in unison.

     “You guys are impossible!” Megan groaned. “Help me with this and I’ll help you with yours. Just please perform with me. Pleaseeeee?” she begged.

     “Alright, alright,” I finally agreed.

     “What?!” they all snapped.

     “You heard me. Now what are the plans, missies?” I asked them.

      “Maki will do the keyboard, Dona will play the bass, I will obviously do the maracas, while you, Chloe, will sing and play the guitar. In short, you are the star of the night.”

     I am the what?! “Not fair!” I protested.

     Megan simply rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t worry. I have just got the perfect song for you.”

     Oh gosh. I’m wondering what she’s up to.

     Prom was fast approaching—which is a disadvantage for me. I hate to admit it but I’m really pretty nervous about it. Not the nervous-excited type, but the nervous-nervous type. You get what I mean? No? Me too.

     These past few days, I heard that boys could already start inviting girls in any way they want. Through presentations, songs, letters, flowers, and all that stuff. But surely, we all know all those things are too cliché and that boys never do that because they believe they become so cheesy when they do it. AND it will ruin their masculine figure. Ha, bluff! They’re just no good at it.

     As I opened my locker, I noticed a paper inside—a paper with cut-out letters from magazines. And the thing that surprised me most was the message. It says,

‘I wish I could tell you what I feel today. But I can never find the words no matter what I do, just to say how much it means to have you.’