𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 || 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

A song started playing on the radio, and Kie pointed a John B, gesturing for him to come dance with her. He looked surprised but got up anyway, spinning her around with a drink in one hand.

"Can I have this dance?" asked the Maybank boy, turning to Bree who was throwing away baskets from people that had just left. He held out his hand to her dramatically, like a gentlemen in a period piece.

She chuckled before grabbing his hand and saying in a posh British accent, "Why, of course you may."

He pulled her to him, his hands going to her waist as hers rested on her shoulders, and he led. They swayed to the music, laughing as they went along.

"Where's your boyfriend tonight?" the blonde asked after a moment of silence. His head leaned back a little bit so that he could look her in the eyes.

She shrugged, looking down at her feet with a frown and thinking back to the moment at the beach with her car. She had never really seen him like that, even though she had heard he got scary when he was angry. "He's at some stupid party."

"What's wrong?" he questioned when he noticed her upset expression. He had been joking, but it seemed like he brought up a touchy subject. "You guys get in a fight or something?"

"Kind of," she answered, and she lifted her head back up so that she was gazing up at him. She wasn't sure what to call her encounter with Rafe since they didn't really fight.

He raised his eyebrows curiously, hiding the gleeful feeling he got when he heard she was having conflict with her boyfriend. "Over what?"

"I think he's feeling a little neglected," she told him with a small smile, and her heart began to beat faster for some reason when his fingers started to play with the fabric of her shirt, his rough hands were brushing the skin off her waist where it had rode up a little bit.

"Oh, well, I have the perfect trick for that. We can head back to the bathroom, and I would be more than happy to show you." Bree laughed at that, and she felt her cheeks turn red. JJ couldn't help but grin at the sound. "You have a really nice smile."

Her giggling died down, and she glanced down at the ground before looking back up at him. "Thanks."

He didn't say anything. He just pulled her closer to him and kept dancing. His hands moved up and down her waist, clinging to her firmly but gently. She rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the beat of the song, all of her worries completely leaving her mind, and for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely happy.

When she got home that night and climbed into bed, she was absolutely exhausted. She was slowly drifting to sleep when there was a tapping at her window. She waved it off as nothing, but when it came again, louder this time, she grew curious. Groaning, she got up sleepily and made her way over to it. She pulled back the curtains and jumped when she saw a teary-eyed Sarah standing on her roof.

"Oh, my God," she muttered, quickly unlocking the window and opened it. "What's wrong? Come in."

The blonde girl climbed into the room before standing up straight to face her friend. Her voice was shaky when she said, "I'm sorry for waking you up. I just really needed someone to talk to that wasn't Wheezie."

"It's fine. What happened?" quizzed the Callaway girl, taking a step closer to her. She hadn't seen Sarah like this since her seventh grade boyfriend broke up with her. She wasn't the crying type.

Sarah took a deep breath before sobbing out, "Topper and I almost — we almost..."

"And? Did he force himself on you or something?" Bree questioned with an angry voice, understanding what the Cameron girl was trying to say.

"No, no." The blonde girl shook her head. "I thought I was ready, but I wasn't. And when I told him to stop, he got really mad."

The Callaway girl's mouth dropped when she heard that. She knew Topper was an asshole, but she never thought he would do anything like that to his own girlfriend. "Son of a bitch."

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have said I was ready when I wasn't," Sarah told her, running a hand through her hair as tears ran down her face.

"No, it wasn't. He shouldn't have gotten mad at you," Bree told her before pulling her into a hug. She led her over to the bed and sat down with her. "Come over here."

The Cameron girl lifted her head up as her friend wiped the tears from her face. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course," the brunette girl replied, but then she thought about how Kie told her to meet them at the Chateau tomorrow. "I have to be up early tomorrow, though."

"Does this have anything to do with this boyfriend you've been sneaking around?" asked Sarah, catching Bree completely off guard.

The Callaway girl furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry. I won't tell Rafe," the blonde girl assured her friend, but when she noticed the girl's expression, she looked down. "You don't have a secret boyfriend, do you?"

"No, but I do have something to tell you. You just have to promise you won't get mad," Bree admitted, shaking her head at the other girl's words.

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows, a little concerned, but she agreed nonetheless. "I promise. Now, what did you do?"

"So, you know how I've been working a lot?" Sarah nodded. "I haven't actually been working. Well, I have sometimes, but usually when I say I'm a work, I'm with the Pogues."

"Like Kiara?" was all the blonde girl said in response. Her and Kie were best friends in ninth grade but enemies in the tenth grade because according to Sarah, Kie called the cops on her party. To be fair, Sarah invited everyone but her.

Bree winced. "Yeah, like her."

"Traitor!" Sarah exclaimed, and when her friend looked down, she sighed. "Just promise that you won't leave me for her."

"Promise."