Alex and Jared

Jared

I lay in my bed, throwing the bouncy ball that Andy gave me in third grade at the ceiling. You'd be surprised to find out what a stress-reliever this bad habit (as my Mom has deemed this pastime) is. I squeeze every brain cell in my head, trying to figure out how to respond to Alex's text, but, alas, I'm out of witty responses. Urgh! I'm supposed to be some hot, strong, witty jock hat has an answer to everything, but I guess God forgot to give me that gene.

Everyone- and I mean everyone- knows what to do when they need to impress someone. I grope around on my bedside table and find exactly what I'm looking for.

It doesn't take long to call him. He's on speed dial and he pro.

"What?"

"Hello to you too Zachary." Zac literally hates his full name, so, naturally, I jump at every opportunity I receive to use it.

"What do you want?"

"Well, my polite, sweet friend, I would like to inquire about some girl help." Suddenly, Zac was all-ears. I wonder what stoked his interest.