𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡, 𝙅. 𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠.

𝟬𝟬𝟳 party like a pogue

"Last I checked, Rory Gilmore is whiter than snow, so...no." Janet cracked a small joke, watching Annabelle playfully roll her eyes at that. She chuckled in response, twirling her plastic straw between her fingers. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, my parents want me to participate in one too. We can become women of society together." The cheeriness of her tone was almost frightening. No sane person would willingly participate in a debutante.

"Yeah, because it's always been my dream to participate in an event that originally fed into the ideology of patriarchy! I'm just so damn thrilled!" Heavy sarcasm lingered through Annabelle's tone, the fakest smile latched onto her lips for an even better effect. "I mean, what teenage girl wouldn't want to be dressed like a literal bride?!"

"Wow, that was a little aggressive!" Janet scoffed, furrowing her brows.

"I've had a bad week." Annabelle deadpanned, not caring about anyone's feelings right now. She just wanted to get out of here so that she could change into more comfortable attire. The short dress was fun at first, but now it just made her severely uncomfortable whenever perverted men would try to catch a quick peek at her ass. Tips were great and all, but the constant harassment that came with them wasn't worth it . . . she had to learn that the hard way. The idea of it, when she first applied to work at the restaurant, was flattering, but watching it play out and being the starring role? Not flattering—like, at all!

To add onto her hell of a week, she had been receiving the cold shoulder from JJ, which surprisingly stung . . . just a bit, though. She understood why he was angry with her, but she didn't plan on apologizing for what she had said last Sunday. Her number one reason for that, you may wonder? Nothing she'd said was false, and if he took offense to that? Who the hell cared?! Being a bitch wasn't anything out of the ordinary for Annabelle Monroe, so she couldn't wrap her head around why he was so pissed off. For the record, they were not friends.

"Don't take it out on me," Janet spoke up, holding her hands up slightly to show that she wasn't appreciating the tone that Annabelle was using.

Pushing her plate to the side at the sudden loss of appetite, an unreadable expression washed over Annabelle's face. "I'm not taking it out on you. I'm simply stating the facts." She elucidated, forming a bubble in her mouth before exhaling the compressed oxygen. "In all honesty, I'm a little pissed that my mom only pretends to give a crap about me whenever it's convenient for her. I mean, beauty pageants, when I was younger, was one thing, but a debutante? Hell no."

"You did pageants?" Xavier butted in, pulling his body back up just as the loud snort left his nostrils.

Parting her lips to say something, Annabelle was interrupted by Janet, who let out one of the most dramatic scoffs ever, followed by an intense eye roll—both of which were directed at the curly-haired boy seated across from them.

"Oh, right, you're too busy having your tongue shoved down her throat to even bother admiring the framed photographs and trophies lying around her house." Janet repeatedly clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shaking her head in disapproval. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring the boy down. "Typical Xavier."

"You want in on the action? Two's fun, but three's a party." Xavier looked towards Janet, smirking at the disgusted look that tugged at her face.

Using her index finger, Janet motioned around her plump lips, shaking her head at Xavier for even having said that as a joke. "I don't want your STD infected self anywhere near these." 

Taking in every detail that Janet had just thrown out into the open about her home, Annabelle looked towards the Wilson girl, a confused look set on her face. "My pageant pictures are framed around my house?" She formed her eyes into slits, completely dumbfounded at this information. "Since when?"