This Means War (The Virgin Wars Contest)

Chapter One

But before I could even comprehend was what happening, he was pulling away from me, leaving my body uncomfortably cold. He gave me a faint smile and turned around, leaving me alone to fend for myself.

My emotions were running rampant. Do I chase after him, only to be turned down? Do I bawl my eyes out, just knowing that I'll never have him? Do I keep drinking, in the hopes that I can drown out the pain forming in my chest? Do I crawl in a hole and die, somewhere where nobody will ever find my body?

I wish I was able to laugh at myself right now. If I wasn't so heartbroken, so lost, I might've been able to get a chuckle out of all of my ridiculous options. But they were all the fallacious choice, because no matter which one I decided, in the end...I'd still lose him.

*

Two Months Earlier...

The cafeteria was lively as I slid into a chair at a table amongst my closest friends, setting my tray down. "Ugh, do they have to do that publicly? I mean come on, nobody wants to see them get into a tongue wrestle." I complained, watching Lindsey Altum and Ryan Bennett makeout at the table in front of us.

"Somebody's jealous," Chelsea sing-songed right before taking a bite of her juicy red apple.

"I am not jealous of that." I stated as I motioned towards the couple once again. "Oh look, now they're dry humping. Great." I muttered out sarcastically, wishing I could catch those horrid images on fire. I popped the tab on my Coca-cola and took a sip.

"You're jealous," she stated. The idea had already been processed in her head, so I just ignored her comment, and tried to change the subject.

I was practically done with my lunch when my other friend sitting across from me spoke. "So, what's this about you and Matt Renard doing the naughty?" Nichole wondered eagerly, her eyebrows dancing.

I scoffed, and then thought about throwing up. "We've never had sex, nor will we ever have sex. He's a disgusting boar." He was thought he was some big-shot because he could tackle men in a pair tights. The egotistical douche, like I'd ever even consider losing my virginity to him. We were all giggling when they silenced and went wide-eyed.

And bulky arm leaned on my chair, the owner whispering in my ear. "You have such a way with words, doll face." I pushed the arm off and crinkled my face in disgust. Doll face? Out of all of the pet-names I've ever heard, doll face had to be the worst.

"I'll give you points for creativity, jar-head. But don't ever call me doll face." His jaw clenched momentarily, whereas I was waiting patiently for a nasty comeback.

He shook off my comments and plastered an obviously fake pout on his face, holding his hand to his heart. "That hurts, Brooke."

"The only thing that hurts right now, are my eyes. You're B.O. is burning them." Not my best line, but it did cause him to nonchalantly sniff his armpits. I scooted my chair back and patted Matt on the chest. "But kudos on remembering my name, doll face." I told him with a sneer. I then grabbed Chelsea's hand and dragged her behind me.

We waited until we had rounded a corner before out we bursted out laughing. "Did you see his face," she questioned through breaths. "Priceless!" 

She continued to exalt me as we sauntered down the halls towards our lockers. Thankfully, Chelsea was president of the debate team, otherwise the principal wouldn't have given into her demand for a locker-switch.

Gnawing on lower lip, she thought deeply when I reached over and swiftly entered her combination. "How is it that you can remember my combo, and I can't?"