13. The One At A Frat Party Pt. 2

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❝I ain't worried 'bout nothin'Plus, I met someone elseWe havin' better discussionsI know they say I move on too fastBut this one gon' last'Cause her name is Ari

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❝I ain't worried 'bout nothin'
Plus, I met someone else
We havin' better discussions
I know they say I move on too fast
But this one gon' last
'Cause her name is Ari.❞

― Ariana Grande
thank you, next

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🗝DELILAH🗝

I slept on Jaxon's pull-out couch. My eyes were close to gluing themselves together during our drive here, but I held on tight. I didn't sleep at all last night—thanks to Rebecca and Dunya. I would've been knocked out into the afternoon if it weren't for the call I received before noon. Groggily, I answered the incoming Facetime request from my best friend.

"Hello," I yawned.

"Drop whatever you're doing this weekend. We're losing our virginity tonight."

"That's a weird way to answer a call," I grumbled. I rolled on to my side, readjusting my phone so better light was hitting my face. "And besides, don't you have a boyfriend, Clive?"

"Jesus had two daddies, I don't know why I can't either," he said with an utmost amount of nonchalance, shrugging. "Dylan is boring anyway and he won't go out clubbing with me."

"And neither will I." I said, figuring out the true reasons behind his call. I knew it had to be something along those lines, too. Clive lost his virginity last year. He was probably talking about our clubbing virginity because we both just turned 18 and finally could go to some clubs in Texas.

Clive has been a friend of mine since Elementary. He was my anchor through the hardships I had to endure in that dreadful town. I couldn't thank him enough for being there for me. I would've lost it earlier if it weren't for him. Every night, I stayed with him and his mother. In those dark days, I was able to rebuild myself.

I met Clive in the third grade. Our friendship blossomed when I defended him after a hateful girl made fun of Clive's vitiligo. His single mother and him perched in a modest home on Reamer Lane, never knowing a father. The punch lines were always either at his skin condition or his lack of a father in the household. Our town was a closed-minded religious place, through and through. Clive never let them have the last laugh, though. We became an unstoppable duo that day we met, and I would say that's true to this day.

"Oh, c'mon, Delilah. Live a little."

"Clive, I have bigger issues than that. I don't have time to go clubbing."

"It can't be that serious. Knowing you, you're sweating over a B plus in Psych 101 or someth—"

"Rebecca tried to kill me."

"That bitch did what?" Clive shouted, squinting at me. "You need to backtrack and tell me everything."

Taking a deep breath, I explained it all to my best friend. He didn't interrupt me, but his countless facial expressions did cause me to pause at times to laugh.

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