Clover Thomson is a young 17 year old that used to have a very normal life.
She has;
A Family
2 Awesome Best Friends
3 Enemies
And she also has 3 super hot males that make their way into her life. Each with an untold secret at the back of their thro...
HEY! I'm back with the season finale of 'Saving the Snobs'! Hope you enjoy it. And we have the evil Rebecca as the gorgeous Emma Stone. So sad. *Wipes tears* Why do the pretty ones suffer on wattpad. Also shoutout to badassbxtchfor remembering the 'Cha Cha slide' in the last chapter! This chapter is dedicated to Supernatural_AJ for being SMASHTASTICAL and for supporting me and voting and commenting! AND I HIT 100 VOTES, 500 VIEWS AND 350 COMMENTS!!!!! IM OVER THE MOON!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!! Love you lots!
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Why you may ask? Because why the hell not.
Chapter 9: Saving the Snobs (Part 3)
Okay so let's recap on everything that's happened to get us into this situation.
I gave my principal a concussion. My brother, friends and I go paintballing. We get hungry and Jason's car gets towed. We go on a bus and bus breaks down. We get hungry. We get really hungry. We search for food but instead fight street rat ninjas and meet two people who become our friends and lead the way to food. We dress up as snobs to get into a rich restaurant. We get food. We say YAAAAY! We pretend to be rich people some more. A bad decision was taken right there. We all end up standing in a dusty dark room with writing on the walls written in blood.
Now what I didn't tell you is after we all got in the room the manager pushed us further inside the room and locked the door. Then he shouted through the door,
"GOOD LUCK MONEY HOLDERS!"
We are now trapped in an abandoned room and we are thinking the same thing.
Fuck.
~a few awkward minutes later~
We've given up banging on the door and shouting for help. But instead of being the calm and collected people trying to sort out the situation on our hands, all of us have turned against each other. Most have turned against me.
Eh, I guess it all comes down to me but did I force them to go paintballing?
No.
Did I force their legs to follow me into our current dilemma?
No.
Did I manipulate them into agreeing with me?
No.
And finally, did I go start the strike nonsense for all the fast food shops?!
NO!
SO THIS IS NOT JUST MY FAULT.
And no matter how many times I spell it out for them, their fingers are still pointed at me. So here I am in a corner refusing to cry and refusing to associate myself with my so called friends.
