the bet → brad simpson | ✓

3

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙨
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Brad had my phone: how do I know? He was waving it teasingly at me from across the second period classroom, winking which only got himself a glare.

When the teacher allows us to talk to each other at the end of the lesson, I walk over to him and put my hand out, "Give it me back, you dick."

"What?" Brad says, acting innocent and oblivious. "I haven't got anything."

"So what's that rose gold iPhone doing in your pocket?"

"I thought it matched the collection," he cheekily grins and Tristan laughs at the situation. "Besides, I shouldn't be talking to you, right? You don't want me to."

"Just freaking give it me back!" I whisper-shout, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone. "It's not yours to keep."

"I might keep hold of it for a little while," he smirks at me. "Now off you trot, little girl."

"Little girl?!" I scoff. "I could whoop your ass any day."

"You wish," he snorts in reply and I roll my eyes. Is he serious, stealing phones and then laughing at me?

"Just—just give it to me, shit face!" I sigh dramatically.

"What did you just say?" He laughs at me, trying to intimidate my but it just aggravates me further.

"I said shit face!" I repeat myself and he rolls his eyes. I noticed they're a deep, dark brown that draws in my attention, but I shake away the thought and focus on the matter at hand.

"Little girl, you're not getting your phone back for a while yet."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Brad has been showing off my phone to everyone he knows—which is practically everyone. Girls were swooning over the way he spoke, smiled, winked and basically breathed and I couldn't help but roll my eyes every time they sighed dramatically over him.

I waited until he was alone, all his fan girls disappearing off to class, before I went up to him, smiling sweetly.

"I think it's been long enough since–" I spoke but my phone began buzzing in his hand and he looks at the caller.

"It's your daddy," he informs me, winking and shoving it in his back pocket. My heart hammers, and I'm annoyed even though I shouldn't be: I wouldn't have picked up even if he did call me when I had my phone. "What do you want then, freak?"

"You know what I want," I roll my eyes at him and he laughs.

"This phone, right?" He says and he's not even clever at this point: he just looks like an absolute dickhead. He waves my phone around in his hand, showing it off again.

"Just give me it back!" I sigh, lunging for it but he only pulls it back and I end up hitting his chest. Before I can fall backwards from force, he puts his hand on my back to steady me, then let's me go again.

It felt like slow motion at first, but once I realised he'd helped me from public embarrassment, I scowl at him.

"Watch where you're going, princess," he winks. I stand there impatiently, thinking of ways that I could retrieve my phone and runaway quickly with it. "Can't have you falling for me already."