EIGHT

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   "You little slut!" Macey screamed, tackling Vincent on his bed.

   He laughed, shoving her off him with ease. She didn't completely get off him, though, only settled for straddling his lap, her legs on either side of his.

   To anybody else, a position like that was absolutely not friendly. If anyone had walked in on the sight, they would've thought they had interrupted a moment or something. Not to Macey and Vincent, though.

   The pair had been inseparable since the sixth grade, when Macey's hair had been drenched by the rain and was starting to get really frizzy.

   The other kids had poked fun at her, but Vincent had felt bad, so he'd stolen Emily Durham's—he'd never liked her—hairband and used it to tie Macey's hair back into a ponytail.

   Ever since then, she hadn't grown out of the hairstyle. It suited her well, but in the few instances when she actually let down her hair—mostly only for Vincent to see—she looked drop-dead gorgeous.

   He had tried to encourage her to ditch the hairstyle several times, but she'd protested that letting her hair down was 'too uncomfortable.' Vincent could read right through his friend, and knew she was still insecure about it.

   He didn't push her, though, he never had.

   "You met his parents? His fucking parents?" she squealed. Vincent had taken the time to fill her in on all the time he'd been spending with Ethan.

   She'd been rooting for the pair ever since freshman year, but now, Vincent stubbornly denied his blatant attraction and insisted that he didn't have a crush on the jock, and wouldn't get with him even if he had the chance.

   "Yeah, I did. They were amazing," he said, smiling at the memory of the nice couple.

   "Are they hot?" she asked, looking at him excitedly.

   His eyes widened. "The fuck, Mace? Why would I think his parents are hot?" he asked, traumatized.

   "Have you seen Ethan?" she retorted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

   "Yeah, I have. And I've also seen his best friend," he said, desperately trying to change the topic. "How're things going with Mason?"

   She shrugged, though Vincent could make out the faintest blush on her cheeks. "He's pretty nice. Doesn't really talk much."

   Vincent raised his eyebrow. "Really? He seems pretty talkative to me."

   Macey frowned. "I don't know. It feels like he doesn't really want to be around me."

   Vincent scowled, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder. "Why the fuck wouldn't he? You're fucking gorgeous, Mace. He's just a dick, that's it."

   Macey chuckled, albeit sadly. "Easy, Tiger. No need to go all berserk on him."

   "You like him, don't you?" Vincent pushed, ignoring her statement.

   She blushed again, harder this time. "I don't like him, Vince. I don't even know him that well. Crush? Maybe. I don't even know anymore," she sighed, running a hand through her now untied hair.

   "He'll come around, Mace. If he doesn't, he'll turn out to be dumber than I thought," Vincent assured her, giving her a comforting hug.

   She laughed softly against his chest. "Can you imagine that? You tonguing Ethan Gray, and me hooking up with his best friend."

   Vincent pushed her away from him, feeling heat rise up his neck as she cackled manically. "Nobody said anything about Ethan and I!"

   "You'll see, lover boy, you'll see," she promised, winking at him.

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