Can I Have Your Attention Please

Chapter 13: Run

DON'T PLAY SONG UNTIL I SAY FOR A BETTER EFFECT.

QOC: Favorite pizza place?

o • O • o
Sam's POV
O • o • O

I've never been one for spontaneous events. I'm adventurous when I can be, although that's been kinda tough since this whole Westland High School business. I think I've proved myself to be daring enough when I made the sexual deal with Kason. And then again when we bet who'd crack first.

But one thing that I don't do is parties. And I'm not saying that because I'm a "good girl" from some fictional story. Because trust me, I'm not innocent in any way. I just don't enjoy going and being surrounded by horny and drunk teenagers. It never ends well. I know that if I go, with my bad luck (that I've mentioned is horrendous luck plenty of time before), something bad would end up happening.

But the only safe place at a party/club is the infamous DJ booth. I know this because I used to play songs for the crazy party people in different raves and such. No one ever bothers you unless they want a song requested. It's funny to see a guy come up and ask for a love song to dance for with their girlfriends. It's annoying when guys also ask for dirty songs to have girls grind on their jeans. But that's besides the point. The moral of the explanation is that it's safe behind the turntables.

"And the boys that go are absolutely hot," Kyra continues to persuade me into trying to go to some well-known girl's party. Cameron says the girl hosting it is nice and isn't some bitch you'd think a popular girl would be like. It was surprising to hear because the first girl I ran into at Westland wasn't too nice. But I haven't seen much of her anyway. Clearly she lost interest in the "street rat" gossip.

I ignore the continuous buzzing of my phone. A new text from Kason comes up every minute. At first I thought he'd broken in already, but then I realized he was just trying to get me to give in by sending me a bunch of emoji eggplants and texts like "send nudes." Such an f-boy.

"Yeah, it's not my scene," I say, picking off some blue nail polish Kyra had painted on two hours ago. I didn't like it. It's not the color or how good of a job she did. I just don't like polish on my nails.

"Oh come on," she insists. "It'll be a fun bonding experience."

Cameron raises a brow and adjusts comfortably on my stomach, his legs kicked up on his wall. "By bonding do you mean abandoning her while you go find your next color?" He asks sarcastically.

She glares at him.

"Color?" I ask confusedly.

"Yeah, every time she goes to a party, she knocks off another guy from her color wheel. So if one dude was wearing a green shirt, she'd sleep with him. Then at the next party, she finds a guy with the color next to green on the color wheel and sleep with him. She's doing it until she's made a three-sixty," Cameron explains.

I look at Kyra with a look of mixed interest and confusion. She blushes deeply and looks away from me.

"Don't judge," she says.

I laugh and face my palms toward her. "I'm not judging you. Your sex life. Your business."

A smile slowly spreads along her lips. "Thank you. At least somebody appreciates my privacy," she says pointedly, glaring at Cameron. He shrugs just as Kassidy enters the room.