The Badboy Smokes

Chapter Fifteen

Thursday.
"Hey, honey," My dad says, not looking to me.
"Hey," I answer, "I gotta go, bye."
"Bye, honey," My dad says, not looking to me.

Jenna is in hysterics when she sees my face, yelling about how the dance is tomorrow and how we haven't picked out our dresses yet. She--literally--slaps me when I jokingly suggest going in casual clothes.
"My god, woman," I comment, rubbing my face, "Calm down. Get some coffee in you."
She narrows her eyes, "Hollie Ann Johnson. I swear to God on high if you do not come with me to pick out our dresses for our last Christmas Ball, I will murder you to death."
I hold my hands up in surrender, "Jesus, fine."
Jenna folds her hands neatly on the table, smiling a slightly deranged smile.
"Good," She says, and I burst out laughing.

     
"I was thinking," Jayce informs me before English starts.
He got here before the bell today, right after I came in.
"That can't be good," I answer, pulling books out of my bag.
"Ha-ha," He deadpans, "Anyway, that dance is tomorrow."
I nod and look over and he continues, "And I was thinking...that, maybe, we should spike the drinks with some strong alcohol and take over the music and turn everything to shit. But, not bad shit. Fun shit."
"You say 'we' as if you think I'm evil and scheming like you," I point out, narrowing my eyes.
"I said 'we' because I know that you're not," Jayce tells me, and flashes a small smirk.

I give him a look before going back to my notebook, doodling random things.
"I'm assuming you're going with Jenna," He tells me and I look back.
"What a rude thing to assume," I state and Jayce half rolls his eyes.
"Unless you're going with sunboy or gay guy or too-in-love-with-that-chick-to-look-away or too-oblivious-to-notice-the-orphan's-love," He answers, with slightly narrowed eyes.
"Touché," I answer with a small nod.

"Okay," Jayce says, "All I'm asking of you is to cover me as I put the alcohol in the drinks. The person at the table will probably be a student council kid, and your student council is a bunch of stuck up asses with no one who loves them. Just, distract them, and I'll get the alcohol in."
"You are so rude," I inform him, thinking over his plan.
Jayce flicks out his hands a little and tilts his head, "Am I wrong?"
I sigh heavily and breathe out a, "No."
"So you'll do it," He says, and I can't tell if he's asking me or telling me.
"No," I answer, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Okay, I'll see you there," Jayce informs me.
"I'm not doing it," I state, slightly defensively.
He smirks and puts his earbuds in, ignoring me for the rest of class.

After school Jenna and drive up to the city of Ashridge. It's not really a city in the traditional aspect, but according to the towns surrounding it, it is. A city in the midwest consists of an establishment with at least 20,000 people, so considering this Ashridge, with 68,000, is pretty decently sized. It's decently located, too, positioned only an hour away from my town so it's not so bad that it's the closest town with a mall.

"HELL FUCKING YEAH," Jenna yells, jumping out of the car, pumping a fist into the air.
"Jesus, calm down," I tell her and she snaps her eyes to me.
"Let us begin our journy," She says, and leads me into the mall.

We walk into Macy's where Jenna decides will be the place we have to shop. Mainly because she has homework and has to be home before a certain time. She harasses me about every dress, but they're all simply too small and it's too cold.

I'm sitting in the dressing room stall with Jenna for the eighth time and she's trying on a lacey Ralph Lauren dress. It costs a whopping 165 dollars, but that's okay because her mom gave her a ton of money. She decides to buy this and we move on to me.

I like to shop, but I never know what to shop for. For example, I'm looking at a ton of different types of nice dresses, but I don't know what I want to wear or what would look good together. That's mainly the reason I normally shop with Jenna--she's good with fashion related things.
"This," She says, pulling a maroon colored lace dress that'd fall to my knees. I squint my eyes a little, thinking about it.
"Ehh," I say, "Not really my style?"