That Girl In The Sweatshirt ✔️

Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Messing With The New Boy

After around 30 minutes of sitting on my tree, I decide I need to start planning a new prank. I know exactly who I am going to prank first, the guy who has the nerve to replace me. 

I'm going to start off small, then work my way up. By the end of it all, he will be begging me to stop. 

I know exactly what I am going to do first. I run to Jack's room, asking him where Asher's room is. I can't pull a prank without knowing where his room is.

"Jack," I say, scaring the crap out of him.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Show me where Asher's room is," I command. 

"Why?" he asks. 

"It's not fair that I don't know where he is staying. I live here too," I explain. 

Jack shows me where Asher's room is, and says he is in the bathroom right now. I thank him, and go to the kitchen to get some Pepsi. 

Honestly, I hate Pepsi. I hate soda in general. The fizz bothers my throat- why would someone drink that? It's disgusting!

I take the Pepsi out of the fridge and shake it. Oh no, I totally can't open this. I guess I should go Asher for help. I mean, he is so much better than me and everything. 

I walk back up the stairs, and knock on his door. 

"Come in," he says. 

I open his door and walk right in. 

"Can you please open this for me?" I ask, innocently. "I can't open it." 

"The little girl is too weak, huh," he mocks. 

"Just open it dipshit," I say.

"Fine." 

Right when he opens it, it explodes. The soda flies out of the bottle, and lands all over him and his stuff. His shirt, once a light grey, is now splattered with soda.

"My bad," I say, running out of the room. Once I get back to my room, I start laughing hysterically. 

He chases after me, and starts yelling at me. 

"Why the hell would you do that?" he yells. "Now my sheets have soda all over them!" 

"Your welcome," I reply, smirking. "You replaced me, so now I have to reclaim my spot. Sorry, not really." 

"You better watch yourself," he warns. He takes off his soaking shirt and throws it at me, revealing his 6-pack. If I wasn't in the right mind, I would have stared at it. Thankfully, I didn't.

"I don't want your shirt," I say, throwing it back at him. It hit him in the back of his head, right where his long, blond hair starts. 

"Neither do I!" he exclaims, angrily, letting it fall on the floor. 

"PICK THAT UP RIGHT NOW!" 

"Nope." 

"What use would I have with it?" I ask. 

"Wear it," he says. 

"Fine then," I reply. I'll do just that. "Excuse me now, I must go put this in the wash." 

I walk past him, and brush my shoulder against his side. 

"Alright then," he says, confusion evident on his face. 

"Go clean your sheets before they stain," I advise. "I don't think you would like to sleep with soda- stained sheets." 

"That's why I'm sleeping in your bed tonight," he says, smirking. "I have no sheets so I have no place to sleep."

"Go to hell and come back. Maybe then I'll consider." 

"I'll see you later, sweetheart," he winks.