My Fake Boyfriend PREQUEL TO SUCK MY LOLLIPOP

Chapter 4

“That reminds me,” I said as I picked out a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved top, “what time is it?”

“Uh,” she hesitated before checking her phone, “9:30.”

“That’s nice,” I mumbled as I grabbed my clothes and changed in the confines of the bathroom down the hall. Once I was dressed and ready to go, Mickayla and I decided that the window would be a better way to escape than to face, yet another lecture about Chase’s sexuality, from my dad. Though Mickayla climbed into my room, enough times that you’d think that she lived here, I had never climbed out of my window before.

Her strategy consisted of using the tree that scaled the side of my house like a ladder. It was flat across the side so, in theory, it would have been pretty easy to climb up and down, you know if it were anywhere near my window. Mickayla did some freaky maneuver of hers, and managed to make it over to the tree by hanging onto the roof. “Mickayla, I don’t have your upper body strength!” I yelled when she reached the ground.

“Then walk on the roof!” she shouted back.

“You could just catch me!” She chuckled and nodded her head to the tree that seemed to distance itself; even farther than it had started. I knew, in my head, that it was only a foot away, but it looked about ten, feet away, that is. After I dropped my purse down to he, I sucked in my breath, stuck one foot out of the window, and sat on the edge. I swung my other leg over, after I had gotten a solid grip on the roof and stretched my right leg to reach the branch. I shimmied over a bit until my foot was a mere inch away from the top branch, and tenderly placed it down.

“Now climb down slowly!” Mickayla shouted up at me. My hands were trembling and my knuckles were white, from clenching onto the roof. A sharp, wintery breeze struck me, and I shivered in it’s wake. After I lowered my feet a few branches, I slowly took one hand from the roof, and placed it onto the top of the tree. Once I was securely on the tree, I started to climb down, very slowly, if I might add. I touched the ground and let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Come on,” Mickayla said, grabbing my arm and dragging me towards her car. She threw me into the passenger’s seat, and walked around the car, sliding into the driver’s side.

It took about fifteen minutes to drive to the mall, and when we got there, Mickayla dragged me into every store she saw. “Can we please get some orange chicken?” I begged for the umpteenth time that day.

“No, are you like on your period or something?” she asked. Just as she said that I felt that familiar feeling, and I narrowed my eyes in distaste.

“I hate you,” I growled.

“What? It’s just orange chicken, it can wait,” she said as she examined the shoes on the rack in front of her.

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered before I raced out the door.

“Where are you going?” she shouted after me.

“The bathroom!” I yelled back. I ran down the mall like my life depended on it, which at the time, it kind of did. When I barreled through the entrance I fumbled with the change in my purse, searching for three quarters. I crossed my legs and put in the 75 cents, necessary and waited for what I needed to slide out of the metal box. I grabbed it and raced into the nearest stall, locking the door behind me. As I did what needed to be done, I chanted ‘this is disgusting’ over and over again in my head until I was done. I finished up, opened the stall door, and went to the sink to wash my hands.

“So I ask you if you’re on your period, and you all of a sudden get it,” Mickayla said, causing me to jump a mile in the air. “That just isn’t natural.”