The Jock Prop

Chapter 2: The Jock Proposition

Chapter 2: The Jock Proposition

      If you told me that I would be standing on Megan Pearson's lawn at 1 A.M. in the morning with a bloody leg and a carton of eggs, I would have called you crazy.

      I mean, me? Egging someone's home? Especially my neighbors? It didn't seem plausible.

      However, here I was, standing in front of an extremely popular girl while sadly attempting to hide my identity.

      Reality snapped back to me as I felt the harsh glare of Megan's green eyes scan me closely. I foolishly attempted to cover my face up with a tattered baseball cap when she stormed up to me.

      "I know it's you, Wren," she snapped, ripping the cap off of me.

      "Oh, hey Megan! Didn't see you there," I laughed, trying to play off the situation I was currently in.

      She snorted, crossing her arms.

      "You're paying for this."

      I gulped.

      "And I know just how you're going to do it."

      "Look, I didn't want do this in the first place! I didn't want to egg your house - I swear! My friends dragged me into this," I babbled, trying to find a justifiable reason as to why I was here.

      "And where are your...'friends'?" She asked.

      I whipped my head around and realized I was alone. Nathan and Willow had left me to die.

      "I'm getting them back if I make it out alive," I growled, clutching my fists.

      "I'm not going to kill you," Megan stated incredulously, staring at me as if I were insane.

      I looked at her in confusion.

      "You're not going to embarrass me in some way?" I asked.

      She shook her head.

      "Take pictures of me?"

      "No."

      "Egg my house?"

      "Nope."

      "Hurt me in any way, shape, or form?" I questioned.

      Megan paused, fiddling with the hat that she had taken away from me.

      "No promises there," she finally said.

      "Then...what?" I asked.

      It was obvious she didn't want me to suffer too greatly, otherwise she would have already snapped photos of me looking like a night-time burglar and posted them onto Facebook. However, I still shook at the thought of what she had planned for me. Whatever it was couldn't be too awful, right?

      "Six months," she started off slowly.

      "Six months of what, exactly?"

      She paused and pursed her lips.

      "Do you know who Aaron Taylor is?" She asked, changing the subject.

      I shrugged.

      "Who doesn't?"

      "Then you'll know what I mean when I say I want you to make him fall in love with you?" She asked.

      "I mean I guess and - wait, WHAT?!" I screamed, taking in her words.