The End Of You And Me | BOOK 1 (Completed) & 2 (Currently Writing)

TEOYAM | 03. Better Together

"Veronica, who's your new friend?" Rachel approached us. She continued to look at Harry from head to toe, forcing a fake smile on her face once he looked at her.

Harry crossed his arms around his chest while I rolled my eyes. I'm surely not hearing the end of this once Harry leaves. I know she doesn't like anyone below upper class. Hell, she doesn't like even some upper class people. Rachel was always picky with everything, most especially friends and boys. Everything had to be the best. She would never settle for anything less than that, which is good, but when it came to people, we disagree on things a lot.

"This is Harry. We have drama club together. He's also in the same grade." I spoke as calmly as I can, not wanting to fight Rachel right then and there, though that hasn't stopped me before.

"Huh, I see." She responded, looking at her nails.

I glanced at Harry. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. It's not hard to tell that he was already annoyed by this, most specially by Rachel.

"I should probably get going. See you later, Ronnie. Cheerio!" He waved at me, giving me a small smile as I mouthed an apology.

"What the freaking hell, Rach?"

"What the freaking hell seems about right, Ronnie. What the freaking hell was that? I thought he wasn't your type? I mean, you said it yourself, you don't want Vie's leftovers."

"Yeah, I don't but he's not Vie's leftovers."

Rachel gasped, cutting me off mid-sentence.

"And we're just drama partners. Maybe friends, but nothing more so calm yourself down. Geez!"

"You better make sure it's nothing more or..."

"Or what, Rachel?" I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Or you're gonna be in big trouble with your mom. I'm not gonna tell her about him, but you know eventually she will find out. It's your head that's gonna be on a diamond platter."

"She can't do anything to me. I don't care if she finds out. Since when did I ever care about what she thinks anyway?," I huffed. "Plus, getting grounded never stopped me before so I don't see where you're going with this argument."

"Ronnie, I've been your best friend since we were in diapers. I'm only looking out for you," she flipped her hair behind her, "I don't want you to get yourself disowned."

"Why? If I get disowned and I'm forced to live in my apartment in 740 Park Avenue instead of Sagaponack, are you going to disown me as your best friend too?"

"What? No. What gave you that idea?"

"Nothing, it just seems to me like all you care about is my standing in this freaking social hierarchy."

"I care about the social hierarchy!," she exclaimed, "but I care about you more, okay? What are you going to live off from? Don't freaking tell me you're considering being a sixteen year old prostitute, for Pete's sake, Ronnie!"

I couldn't help but laugh at how fast her mind was going. What even gave her the idea that I was planning on entering prostitution to get by in life? "If you forgot, I have my guitar, my brass knuckles, and I can sing. I can also write my own songs. I'm pretty sure I can camp out in the subway and sing songs for a living until I get discovered," I joked. "Plus, I'm still Veronica Solenn Ortega-Rockefeller. Just because my mum might disown me, doesn't mean the world ends there. My life doesn't revolve around my mum. I was born to survive. The only difference is, I was born wearing Chanel."

"Just- please don't get yourself disowned, okay? Just promise me that."

"Fine, fine. I won't," I assured her.