The Boyfriend Games (slowly editing; grammar issues)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

"What happened? Are you alright?" Randy patted my back soothingly as he tried to calm me down from the fit I was throwing. My legs ached like hell, and my face was red from the heat and lack of water. I had run and walked from that grassy meadow to Randy's house. It must've been at least five miles away! "You could've called me to pick you" He told me, looking upset.

"Sorry, I couldn't think straight" I smiled through my tears at his concern. This was the attitude I wanted Mr Perfect to have- Caring, willing to spoil their girl and not afraid to let their feelings get known. Not like 'ahem-ahem'. Blake was the total opposite of Randy- Asshole, uncaring, played hard-to-get. 

"Hey Randy.. Can I stay over at your place?" I asked timidly and he nodded eagerly.

"Okay, I'll tell my mom, so she doesn't freak out when she sees a pretty girl at my place. I never girls over." He said, and I laughed at him unbelievingly. How could a hot guy like him not have any girls over at his place? "

What? It's truueee!" He whined at me, and I snickered. What a child he was. He took out his phone and called his mom. After about a few minutes of whining, pleading, threatening and bargaining, he hung up. "She said yes!" He grinned at me excitedly.

"Okay, let's do something!" I jumped on his bed and he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, let's bake something!" He said excitedly, then started blushing like an idiot. "I-I mean.. Let's go skating.." He trailed off as I started gaping at him with my mouth wide open. I never thought that a guy like him would ever like baking.

"Yeah.. Sure.. But I don't know how to," I admitted, and his blush faded.

"I'll teach you!" He said and dragged me to the kitchen. 

"Okay, we're gonna make cake pops." He said confidently, and took out a pre-made butter cake. He started squishing it into crumbs and dropping it into a big metal bowl.

"Okay, go to the fridge and take out some frosting." He instructed professionally and I did as told. He took it from me and spooned two table spoons of it into the bowl. He took my hands and placed it in the bowl, and taught me how to knead the mixture so it would feel like playdough. "Crap, we don't have icing. We have to make do with melted chocolate," He mumbled to himself.

When we finished forty-five minutes later, I took a big mouth of the cake pop and spat it out. "Yuck! It's horrible!" I whined and Randy laughed. "I thought you could bake!" I pointed at him and accused him. He held his hands up in surrender and gave a loud, raspy laugh.

"Fine! I lied! I can't bake at all!" He explained, and I  poked my tongue out at him.

"Did you put something in this?" I pointed to the disgusting cake pops, and he shrugged.

"Maybe.. I put salt instead of suger?" He offered, and I whacked the side of his head. 

"Let's go watch TV or something. I've gotta get the picture of those poop-like cake pops out of my head," I pointed at the cake pops that really looked similar to faeces. I jogged to Randy's TV lounged and dived for his giant sofa. I switched on the television, and clicked on Disney Channel- I know, childish- and started watching So Random! Randy scowled at me, and snatched the remote away.