Chapter Eighteen - Ella Fordman: The Girly-Girl

19.1K 581 229
                                    

~~~~

Dedicated to malkakateri4ka for the amazing banner to the side! Thank you, lovely! :) x

 

~~~~

“You were right,” Phoenix said Sunday morning as he walked through my bedroom door and into my room.

Shocked by his sudden appearance, I jumped, yanking out the earphones I’d had in and closing the lid of my laptop, cutting off the music mid-sentence. “What?” I asked confusedly.

He flopped down on my bed and lay back on my comforter, slinging his arm over his eyes to block out the light dappling through my window. He looked completely at ease in my room, as if nothing bothered him. “You were right about Melissa. That chick is psycho.”

I shrugged. “I tried to warn you.”

“Guess what she told me about yesterday?” Phoenix asked, flipping over and turning to look at me.

“Her foot fetish?” I replied, reopening my laptop and scrolling through my playlist with one hand cupping my chin.

“No, she—Wait, what?” he replied, sitting up and staring at me with wide hazel eyes. “Really? She has one of those? Gross.”

I giggled. “Which disgusting trait did she tell you about?” I replied.

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Her passion for voodoo dolls. I spent the whole night wondering if she would make a voodoo doll out of me and torture me if I ruined the date.”

I cringed. The voodoo doll thing was one I was not aware of, yet vividly creepy. “Yikes.”

“But I suppose she’s still an extra point on the scale, right?” Phoenix replied, shrugging. “Which still puts me one ahead of you.”

I shrugged. “I have a date tonight, anyway.”

“Really?” Phoenix asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Another one with Carter, might I presume?”

After we had kissed, Carter had driven me home, and I had finally agreed to the offer. We would see each other every Tuesday and Saturday, and in exchange he’d get me dates as often as he could. Tonight I was due to go out on a date with one of his friends, Ziggy.

“Nope,” I replied. “I’m going out with this guy from school, Ziggy.”

“Stardust?” he replied, cocking an eyebrow and smirking.

“Ha ha. Funny,” I replied, throwing a down pillow at him, which he swiftly caught. He then caught sight of my computer and wriggled around to face the screen. “What are you listening to?”

He looked at my playlist, his eyes raking the songs on the list, before his eyes visibly lit up. “Ooh, I like this song.”

All Bets Are OffWhere stories live. Discover now