Of Jerks & Drama

Chapter 2

"Mom I'm sick." I throw in a little cough to make it believable

Today is the day Ava and Foster are coming for dinner and I thought of the best way to get out of it.

Pretend I'm sick.

Knowing the type of mom I have and I have the tendency to chew on my lower lip when I'm lying, making me a terrible liar — Ryan has always been the better liar out of the both of us, but he's not here at the moment — my plan will probably not work.

"Oh really?" My mom challenges, placing her hand on her hip. "With what?"

Honestly, I didn't think I would get this far with lying to her, so I didn't bother to actually looking up a sickness that requires me to stay in bed all day. So I say the first thing that pops into my head...

"Headache momma." I whine, jutting my lips out to prevent myself from chewing them. "Really hurts."

"I can get you some pain killers."

"I've also got cramps!"

"You can walk it off."

I claw at my cheek, that would probably leave ugly red marks if i was white.

"I missed my —"

"Okay. Okay." She waves her hand dismissing my plan. "You could've just made fake vomit or something and I would've totally believed that."

Why didn't I think of that?!

"Why don't you want them to come Riley?"

Because my ex-best friend, Foster is a total jerkface for leaving me without notice and I would really punch him in the face if I see him. "I just don't feel like seeing them today."

"I've already told them and Ava seemed real happy." She smiled.

I would've opposed the motion but my mom's truly excited to see her friend and her son face to face again. I would hate to be the suckish whiny kid.

"Okay. You're right, it would be rude to cancel on them." I appease.

"Finally!" She exclaims, walking around the landfill that is my room and she goes out the door. I can still her her mumbling about how magical the night is going to be.

As soon as she's down the stairs and out of ear shot, I let out an unladylike groan.

I grab my phone and send a text to my brother.

me: FB!!!

A code we made up when we were younger in case Foster came back and one of us (me) got out of control, if we were far away from each other — which he solely predicted.

I walk towards my window which is directly alined with Foster's, if I remember correctly. I see a blurry dark  figure (due to the almost closed blinds) pacing back and forth.

Ohmigosh! ohmigosh! Foster's back! Foster's back!

My phone vibrates on my bedside table and I skip over to it and place it on my ear, knowing who it is already.

"Ryan! How's everythin-"

"Is he actually back?" My brother rudely cuts in.

"Hello to you to." I roll my eyes. "And yes, he's back."