The Book Is Always Better| #Wattys2015

Nine~Fangirls can be bad too

^^Found this on Pinterest and can't get over how perfect it is xD

"May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground."

-Carry On by Fun
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"Libby, I really don't think we should be doing this." I said nervously as she pulled her car into the crappy apartment complex's parking lot.

"We'll be fine, look." She pointed up to a grime caked open window on the third floor of the crumbling brick building. "Nights like this, he always opens that damn window. It annoyed the hell out of me." She parked her car then turned to me, grinning evilly. "Thankfully, it will work to our advantage."

I took a shaky breath and clutched the egg carton closer to my chest. "I'm trusting you." We had to have incredibly good aim to not hit the windows above or below his apartment, the other occupants were not so nice and I doubt they would like egg yolks splattered across their already dirty windows.

I got out of the car with Libby and handed her a carton. "Would you like the honors of the first throw?"

She grinned manically. "It would be my pleasure." She took an egg from the carton and wound her arm back, then released it. I cringed as it soared up to the third floor window and inside gracefully, a soft splat could be heard from the apartment. Libby cheered. "Hell yeah! Have no mercy!" She cried as she threw another. I took one of my own and joined her, mine breaking over the window sill. It felt kind of good.

We threw the rest of our cartons, whooping and cheering and cussing, each egg landing in the small apartment window. We stopped when we each had one egg left.

"Last ones." I said.

"Let's do this, bitch."

I laughed and was about to chuck my last egg when somebody came to the window, and it wasn't Dog Man.

She had shoulder length, choppy black hair with streaks of purple in it. Her face was pretty even with dark makeup covering it up. She held a sheet around her chest which looked bare. Did we get the wrong apartment?

"Dog!" She shrieked. My mouth dropped open and I looked over at Libby, steam coming out of her ears. She yelled a not-so-nice word to the girl and flipped her finger. The girl shrieked and ran away, her presence in the window replaced by a man covered in dark brown hair from head to abdomen, his gruff features contorted into a growl.

"Libby, what the hell?!" He shouted.

"Want me to make you an omlet, asshole?!" She shouted. "Here, bitch!" She hurled her egg and I threw mine too, both of us running into the car. My egg hit his hairy chest, covering the brown curls in slimy yellow yolk while Libby's landed on his thick head of cocoa hair, dripping down into his eyes.

"Screw you, bitch!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry," Libby stuck her head out the car window. "But are you talking to me or the girl you are actually screwing?!"

He let out a growl above us as Libby drove away. I expected Libby to burst into sobs or start screaming, but she started cheering.

"Let's do that again! Did you see the look on his face? He was so mad. That was priceless, truly priceless." Adrenaline coursed through my veins, making me feel like I could do anything. I had never done something so rebellious. It felt great.

I heard the loud hum of motors behind us and turned to see what vehicle could possibly be making that much noise.

A gang of motorcycles.