Blinded by Perfection

27- More Than Childish Games

Chapter 27 | More Than Childish Games

__________

"Took you guys long enough!" Taylor says exasparatedly, her blond curls flying behind her as she zooms down the brick steps of her house to meet us.

"Don't blame us. Blame her," Noah grumbles, throwing an accusing finger in my direction.

"Just shush, Noah," I drawl, flicking him in the back in retaliation. He grunts his uncommitted reply, but otherwise continues on into the house.

He isn't wrong, I had taken about twenty minutes to gather my stuff for tonight's sleepover. In my defense that was only so I could put makeup on my black eye so I didn't have to put up with the annoying (and slightly deceiving) sunglasses anymore. Noah had noticed, but thankfully didn't mention anything.

I also might've had to finish the last episode of Stranger Things I started a couple days ago. Things like that can't wait.

Before she can make a move back up the steps, I call out to Taylor. "Wait up, I have a question.

"What's up?" She asks, waiting for me to approach by her side before allowing herself to resume stepping up the stairs.

"Could you drop me off to school from now on? My mom can't anymore so I need a chauffeur."

We both attempt to squeeze through the narrow doorway and successfully make it through, but she doesn't answer for a couple of seconds while she twists around to slam the door shut roughly.

"Sí señorita," she says in a horrible Spanish accent, chocolate brown eyes lit playfully as they set on mine.

"But," I add, noting her strange upbeat behavior. "I don't want you speeding through the streets like you did when I had the date with Chance."

I only realize the poor choice of words when I'm bombarded by Taylor's excitement. "Date? You finally consider it a date? EEEEE!" She screeches. My hands to fly up to my sensitive ears, but even then the loud sound practically shatters my eardrum.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks anxiously, bursting out of Taylor's bedroom and jogging towards us. His hazel eyes travel around us two, searching for the problem while his posture tenses threateningly. Noah appears right beside Sam, grey eyes lingering on me. And I know exactly why.

Because I'm accident prone.

"Everything is absolutely, positively great! Kirsten finally r―" Taylor starts in a babble, her hand reaching up to twirl her hair. I've recently noticed she only does that when she starts a long sentence, so I save us all from her endless chatter and throw my hand over her mouth.

I don't want the two in my business about Chance, so I debate on the best way to get them off of my case. Finally, I settle for a plan that has a zero percent chance of failing.

"We were talking about girl stuff," I say in a serious tone, raising my eyebrows in emphasis. Immediately the two boys pivot around, fast walking into the door they came from and giving us privacy.

"Way to scare them off," Taylor compliments after she finishes a fit of giggles.

"It was too easy," I laugh, running my hand through my long brown hair.

"Anyway, back to Chance. . ."

"I didn't mean to say date. I meant gathering," I insist. Tired of the constant bring ups of this conversation, I lean back against the wall.

"Okay so if that doesn't count as a first date, why don't you ask him out?" She counters, eyebrows raised. "And don't try to say you don't like him. Your face is as red as a rose."