Definition: Slut [ complete ]

[02] Ultimate Ping Pong

NOTE:
This story will be removed the moment I finish it's prequel (S's & Ex's). And then I'm going to rewrite this <3
See description for link.

Definition: Slut
[02] Ultimate Ping Pong

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PREVIOUSLY:
After Ella met Emily and speeding up her relationship with Jonathan, she told her new roommate-slash-best friend about her alter ego as Queen Bitch. A week after, Emily brought Ella to a frat party, where Ella befriended Mia, a girl in her economics class, who convinced her to strike out with 'Mr. Absolutely Gorgeous.' After an exchange of witty banters and friendly insults, she ended up kissing him.
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"That was disgusting."

I nodded, feeling ever so repulsed. If I had detergent with me right now, I would be cleansing my mouth right now. It was the most horrible kiss ever. I mean, Damien was pretty good looking, but the kiss was horrible. I've kissed enough guys to know the difference between good and just plain nasty. The kiss with Damien was defiantly a thirteen on a scale of ten in the Icky Kissy Experience.

"It was like kissing my brother." I frowned. Well, I wouldn't really know how it would feel to kiss my brother. But I could imagine. Yuck. I couldn't even stand the thought of incest. I never even touched an incest story my whole life. "Not that I have a brother."

He chuckled, sticking out a hand. "Friends?" he asked, a small smile gracing his lips.

I stared at his hand s for a moment, contemplating whether or not I should shake it. I mean, there was this one time in high school where this girl got kidnapped after she was drugged for picking up someone's credit card. Though, it was just a rumour, one should never be too cautious.

After a minute of awkward silence, I finally decided that: no, Damien was not an evil genius murderer. "Absolutely," I answered, taking his hand for a shake.

"So..." he drawled out, taking a look back at the party.

"So," I echoed. I didn't particularly want to go back in there. The music was too loud and it hurt my ears. It also smelled very funny-the bad kind of funny-in there. I was sure that whoever owned the house would be up for a lot of cleaning tomorrow morning. I didn't know what to do now. It turned my gaze to Damien, who seemed to look as conflicted as I was. "What now?"

He grinned sheepishly, placing his hands on his pocket. "I have Back to the Future in DVD. Does the maiden wish to join me?"

"I don't know," I muttered, but in my mind, I was super excited and wanted to say yes. Back to the Future was the best. I would have never pegged Damien as a fan. "You still sound kind of sketchy. I mean, why would you be in there and agree to come out with me, and ask me to join you watching movies if you aren't sketchy?" I was half serious, and half joking. I mean, there was a chance that he was a psychotic murderer-albeit, a small one, but a chance nonetheless. Plus, why would he want to leave the party. He seemed like the partyer kind of guy.

He sighed. "I went to the party because I have to," he answered as if he'd read my mind. "It is part of the image."

I grinned. We both shared the fact that we went to the party unwillingly. Ish. "Of being sketchy?" I teased.

He barked out a laugh, pointing at his jacket. "I'm in the team," he stated, "I have to show up. For spirit and all that; it's part of being a jock, you know." And to prove it, he flexed his arm, but it wasn't as if it mattered. He was wearing a baggy sweater anyway.