A Little Thing Called Summer League
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- Parts 5
"Seven," a voice said, "and a half."
"Nah man," another voice replied, "she's a nine at least."
"I'm more into blondes." The first one said as I flipped my brown hair over my shoulder.
"Yeah right," a familiar voice replied, one that made my blood boil, "she's a 3 at most."
If not for him I would've ignored them. I would have let them be if not for him.
"Isn't it funny," I asked as I spun around, walking right up to him, "I used to love you, and now I hate you. Eight letters, three words, yet oh so different meanings."
"On the contrary," he said with his signature smirk plastered on his face, "I think it's funny that you think you stopped loving me."
He knew I would take the bait. He knew his comment would get under my skin. But like all of the many things that came out of his mouth, his was complete bull. I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off when an arm was thrown around my shoulder.
"Is there a problem here?"
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