Devon Porter could never believe his unusually bad luck because wherever he went disasters always seemed to bite him in the ass.
What's the use of being blessed with such undeniably good looks when his luck seems to repel everyone away like a very...
"My life is ruined!" I cry as I clutch Jamie's shirt.
"Easy on the clothes man, this is one of my favourites!" my so called best friend Jamie whines as he pries my fingers off his black polka dot shirt.
Is his shirt more important to him than my failing love life? Besides, he is so filthy rich that he could buy a truck load of them with his allowance.
Why do rich people act so stingy?
"Why are you acting like it is the end of the world?" he asks with his eyes fixed on the soccer ball as he dribbles it in the air, displaying his skills in the park. He ain't our school's ace midfielder for nothing.
"She hates me, she hates me-" I pull my hair and mumble out loud as I pace around in anxiety.
"Who? Kiara? No she doesn't," he pats my back and I look at him with hopeful eyes.
"Really? She doesn't hate me?"
"Nope, she's always hated you," he gently says, making me swiftly smack him on his red head. "Ow! What the heck was that for!" he grumbles as he rubs the back of his neck and glares at me angrily.
"That's for not being a good friend," I retort angrily.
"Hey, it isn't my fault you broke her best friend's arm!"
"I slipped on a banana peel-" I weakly argue.
"-and sat right on her precious, milky white arm and made her walk around in a cast for a month! The poor girl couldn't participate in the National cheerleading competition and they lost because of that. You do know that the whole team blames you for their loss, don't you?" he tuts and I glance down at the floor, ashamed as I recall Simone's horrified scream as I hear her arm crack.
"Her boyfriend did hit me," I point out and wince in memory of the six foot bulk of muscle barging at me with his nostrils flaring, raising his ugly looking steel bat.
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I bet I could've squeeze a lemon up that gorilla nose of his if he wasn't stomping towards me with murderous intentions.
"The guy fell down the stairs while chasing you," he raises his eyebrow and I look back at him sheepishly.
"His bad luck?" I shrug my shoulders innocently, making Jamie slap his thigh and howl out loud in laughter.
"Says the guy who squirted ketchup and mustard on his crush's cheerleading uniform."
"Shit, Kiara hates me!" I repeat as I remember the look on her face when I had my fries and ketchup on her sparkly white skirt today. For cheerleaders, they value their uniforms which are pretty expensive.
"I'm really sorry," I stutter as she frantically tries to remove the stain with tissues.
"I doubt you are," she hisses before walking off with her food left untouched on the table.
