Bully, turned best friend, turned lover?! - A Greg Jenko Love Story

We Need a Better Car

Waking up, I looked at the clock and it read 6:30. School starts at eight. I grabbed a towel and some clothes, and hopped into the shower, so that I’d feel fresher.

After my shower, I slipped into a red skirt and an Abraham Lincoln tank top, before pulling on some black ankle boots, and slipping on a huge bracelet.

Then I straightened my hair and applied some make-up: cover-up, black eyeliner, mascara and red lip gloss.

Then I grabbed my school bag, and went downstairs.

I looked at the clock: 7:15. Were the boys even up yet? I’d go and find out.

I ascended the staircase, and softly knocked on Morton’s door, but getting no answer, I went in.

The towel was on the treadmill, meaning that Dad had already done his morning exercise, and there on a bed and on an air mattress lay Morton and Greg, fast asleep.

I walked over to the bed, and shook Morton, telling him to wake up, but when he rolled over, I just flipped him off, and knelt on the floor next to Greg’s air mattress.

“Greg,” I whispered, gently shaking him, “Greg.”

“Mmmm?” he groaned.

“It’s time to get up,” I sang.

“Five more minutes,” he begged.

“No, sorry,” I replied, smiling.

“Mmm you’re mean.”

“I know, but you love it.”

“Mhm. Yes I do.”

“So because you love me soooo much, you’ll get up for me won’t you?”

He sighed before nodding.

“But for a small price,” he bargained.

“What?” I asked curiously.

Then he tapped his cheek; “Good morning, wake up kiss, please.”

“Seriously?” I asked, exasperated.

“Mhm, or night, night,” he confirmed.

“Fine!” I agreed, leaning down almost to floor level and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Now that I’ll wake up for,” he said, “Oh and nice top,” he gestured to my tank top with Abraham Lincoln taking a selfie.

“Oh thank you,” I blushed, getting up, “Can you please get Morton up?”

“Yeah, sure,” he smiled up at me.

“Thank you,” I smiled back, gracefully standing up again, and exiting the room.

We were due to leave for school in ten minutes and I rushed upstairs, to get a pen from my room, and I passed the bathroom, where the boys were shaving.

“You have the right to remain silent,” they said together. From there Morton spoke the Miranda rights and Greg sort of mumbled what little he knew.

From my room, I could hear Morton ask, “Dude, you still don’t know the Miranda rights?”

So, I stuck my head around the door on the way back, saying, “I’ll help you learn them Greg.”

“Thanks, Em!” he called after me, as I descended the stairs once more.

I grabbed my lunch labelled ‘Katelyn’ and put it in my bag.

Two minutes later, ‘Doug’ and ‘Brad’ came down and grabbed their lunches in quick succession before we all exited the door with a ‘BYE MOM!’

“So the rules to being cool in high school,” said Greg, “One- don’t try hard. Two- make fun of the kids who do try hard. Three- be handsome. Four- if anyone steps you on the first day of school, punch him in the face... or her, Em. Five- drive a cool car....”

This is when our eyes trailed to Morton’s cheap-looking shabby car, then we all looked at each other.

We all legged it to the police station, eager to acquire a decent car.

In the station, we came across a white muscle car.

“Oooh, baby!” I said, running my hand across the bonnet, appreciatively.

“Fine, but don’t be driving it like teenagers revving the engine and shit, okay?” said the female officer with us.

“Would we ever?” asked Morton, feigning hurt.

She chuckled, but threw us the keys... And guess what the guys did when we got outside?

They revved the engines and shit like teenagers, and for some strange reason practiced running each other over!

“Guys! School is in ten minutes, let’s go!” I yelled.

“Wooo!” Greg yelled as we all got in the car.

The whole way there, the conversation was riveting... they talked about one-strapping and two-strapping with their rucksacks and which was cooler.

I sighed and looked out of the window on our way there.