The Bad Boy's Good Girl

3. "A Male Escort, Eh?"

Thanks so much to NinjaGirl14 for the cover on the side!

NOT EDITED

They say I only think,

In the form of crunching numbers

In hotel rooms,

Collecting page six lovers.

Get you out of my mind,

And get you out of those clothes.

I'm a liner away

From getting you into the mood.

(Thanks For The Memories - Fall Out Boy)

"So, which one is your house?" Drew shouts over the roar of the engine. I'm shaking in fear. Never again.

"That one," I say, my voice barely above a slight whisper. I clear my throat, tightening my arms around his waist. "The one next to the white one."

He revs the engine again, and I'm positive that he's just doing that to show off. Going way over the speed limit, he skids up to my house.

"Camera Girl, you can let go now." He says. I don't do anything, just sit there, frozen. "Camera Girl?" He tries again.

I shake my head before clumsily unwrapping my arms from his waist. I hop off, my knees feeling like they're about to give out.

"Th - thank you," I shiver as a crack of thunder sounds. I've never liked rain; I prefer sun and happiness.

He smirks, "You're very welcome, Camera Girl." He looks at his watch. "Shit," he mutters. I slip off his jacket and hand it to him.

"You need it more," I say. He grins, slipping it on.

"Bye, Camera Girl," he waves, riding off. I momentarily stand there, completely starstruck.

Why?

I don't know.

***

"Arrrrgghhhhh!" My alarm clock shrieks. Actually, it's more of a 'jingle boop jingle boop', but you don't know pain unless you've been woken at six A.M.

Especially if you have a sore throat, a head ache, and a runny nose.

I swallow, completely regretting it after pain shoots through my entire trachea.

I furrow my brows; I have to go to school anyway. It's the third day; who misses the third day?

I throw back my duvet and shiver as my feet make contact with the hard wood flooring of ... the floor.

I dress in black leggings and a wool jumper. I sneeze as I tie the laces on my Converse.

Throwing my hair into a high ponytail, I make my way to the wash room. I brush my teeth, trying to force myself not to sneeze or cough the entire time.

After I spend about a solid hour pinching my cheeks to give myself some color, my phone rings out Noel's ring tone. 

"It's Noel, bitch!" My phone plays out. I groan, hitting Answer.

"Hey," I sniffle.

"I'm up front," she says.

"Yeah, Noel, I'm doing great, thanks for asking," I say, sarcasm leaking into my tone. "I'll be right down."

I end the call and pick up my bag, which is still a bit damp from yesterday. I slip on my black zip - up and slam the door on my way out.

I climb into Noel's car, feeling ecstatic that the heat is going on strong.