The Senior Bad Boy | ✔️

35. Solve + Silence

Part 1/2

"It's been over a year and I would still give up my fucking life for some new episodes of Teen Wolf," Presley groans from the floor. Seconds before, she had rolled off my bed in a dramatic display of sadness.

"Pres, if you gave your life up, you wouldn't even be able to watch them," I inform her, readjusting the laptop in the middle of my bed, which had been jostled by Presley's performance.

"You know what I mean," she grumbles as she hoists herself back into my bed in just her bra and underwear.

We'd been having a Teen Wolf marathon all night. Earlier in the week, Presley had claimed that Jayce was the only person I cared about anymore. When I told her she was insane and to stop being jealous, she told me that in order to prove my undying love and friendship to her, we had to spend 24 straight hours watching Teen Wolf. So, after school on Friday, we'd begun our marathon and hadn't stopped for more than 10 minutes. She said if I fell asleep even once, she'd never speak to me again. Of course, I knew she was being dramatic, but I'd still managed to stay awake, thanks to a plethora of energy drinks and sugary snacks.

Though I thought her accusations had been a little extreme, I did understand where she was coming from. We hadn't hung out as much as usual since Jayce and I started dating. It wasn't anything intentional, it just sort of happened. When she brought it up, I realized what a shitty friend I'd been. After all, she got out of a fucking weird-ass relationship just over two months ago, if you would call it that, and I had been off in Jayce-land.

But, I did go to a club with her in the beginning of January, and had helped her find her rebound man. She'd ended up going home with a gorgeous guy called Piers who, apparently, gave her the greatest sex of her life, to date. Granted, she'd been smashed, but still. The best part of it all? He's eighteen. For sure. I'd had her check his ID.

Not that she needed me around, Presley was resilient and resourceful like that, but I definitely should've given her more time and attention. That was the first thing I'd said to her when we got settled in my bed 24 hours ago. I'd apologized. We'd cried. She'd blown her nose in my comforter. It was great.

"So, have you talked to Piers lately?" I ask, secretly hoping she's still seeing him. The more she thought about a new guy, the less she'd think about missing Cole, who she had mentioned, much to my disdain.

"Yeah, yesterday," she giggles, snuggling beneath the comforter. "Well, that is, if you consider sexting talking."

"Oh," I remark, not the least bit surprised by my best friend's behavior. Many have said she's a slut, or a whore, or whatever. I just think she's unashamed about who she is and what she likes, and doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks about her. Which, in my opinion, are noble qualities.

"We have a date tonight, actually," she tells me as she checks her phone. "Holy shit, it's already 6pm," she looks up at me, her mouth a perfect O. "I have to go get ready," she says, springing out of bed and tipping my laptop backward, yet again.

"Alrighty then," I giggle as she races around my room, picking up articles of clothing that she'd strewn about while giving my poor laptop a strip tease during Theo's workout scene. "Have fun."

"Oh, trust me," she giggles as she pulls her shirt over her head, the hem falling to the middle of her ass cheeks. "We will. Thanks for the marathon, babe. I needed it," she kisses me on the cheek before bounding down the stairs, not even bothering to put pants on. I hear the front door swing open and then another voice.

"Um, I think you forgot your pants, Pres," I hear Haven's voice float up from the kitchen.

"Didn't forget them, just don't care," she chortles, then slams the front door shut.