Sandwich Story

Sandwich Story

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WpMetadataNoticePublikasi terakhir Sab, Feb 4, 2017
"Daniel, I loved you!" I yelled. "Who the hell are you? And why are you saying you 'loved' me?" "Because." I began to tear up. "You cheated on me with a sandwich." "Get out of my way." He shoved me, making me fall upon the linoleum floor. "And please, I have greater things to worry about than cheating on you with a sandwich," He spun around to face me before leaving me, a small smirk on his face, "like I'd have the time to date a shit-haired lesbian like you anyways." I laughed as he walked away, getting up and brushing myself off, spinning around to face Annabelle and Trish. "So, how was the dare?" "Good." I beamed. Trish stared at me with a faint glow to her expression. "Now let's see how long it takes for him to realize that he likes you." "As if, buttface." I giggled. Heather was a sixteen-year old funny, happy-go-lucky teenager who loved to play pranks and dares on people, and as for her, she ended up daring the wrong person; Daniel Lamar Skyes. An ideal jock, with an ideal perfect jawline, and again... An ideal body type and a perfect reputation and status at school. Lucky for her she didn't know the mess she was getting herself into. Although her friends were the one to make her approach him. Or was it her that wanted to approach him?
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C O M P L E T E D "Date me," he spins the whiskey around in the glass and fixes me with a smirk. I roll my eyes the moment the words roll off his tongue. "Are you really that desperate?" I scoff in response, fighting back the ever prominent blush. His smirk widens as my face flushes red and he leans over the countertop towards me. I step back. "Name your price," he replies, his words cool and smooth like ice cream. Only I would reference food at a moment like this. Anger rolls around in the pit of my stomach; I may not have money but I have morals. "You can't buy people, Grant," The words fall out of my mouth and he recoils as if slapped. I'm glad. Stupid rich boy and his player ways. "Bet I can," I resist the urge to slap the smug look of his face and scoff again. "Right," I drag out the word, rolling my eyes. I step away from the counter and turn my back on him, desperate to leave. But he speaks again. "Date me. Two months. If you fall for me for my money, I win. If I fall for you for who you really are, you win." I consider this for a moment. I have nothing to loose and really not much to gain. But I'm so desperate to put the asshole in his place that I can't resist. I'm a sucker for a bet. "Deal."

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