"You fucked Sabrina?"
"Toby, it's 7am, way too early for you to be this loud."
"Don't try to avoid the subject."
Toby is a ball of energy sitting across from Connor, wagging a finger at him accusingly. The AP calculus homework he was rushing to finish would just have to wait.
Sighing, he gives in, "Who told you?"
Toby impossibly brightens, "So, it's true? I thought Lisa was just pulling my leg."
"We had sex, yes, but no one is supposed to know," Connor slides his textbook into his backpack and tries to remember if Sabrina had really said, "don't tell anyone," or if he just imagined it.
Toby scoffs so hard Connor briefly thinks he's choking, "That's gonna be hard. According to my anonymous source, Blake Hall said that when she left, and she was one of the last ones to leave, Sabrina was still at your house."
Unfortunately, Connor couldn't recall much from Saturday night. He remembers singing and dancing and pulling his hair into a bun after beer was splashed into it, but everything concerning Sabina drew a blank in his mind, almost like she was never there. Yet, he awoke lying naked next to her.
"So, was she tight?"
"Was who tight?"
"Sabrina Valdez," Toby chirps before he can stop himself.
Michael Bernard beams and slaps Connor hard on the back, chuckling quietly. Toby sends him a sheepish smile and Connor feels his stomach sink.
"Congrats, man. I always knew you had it out for her."
It's 7:15am and Connor is ready to go home before school has even started yet.
YOU ARE READING
The Taste of Yellow Paint ChipsTeen Fiction
"No!" She wags her finger in Connor's face, her body tense with an immense amount of anger, "Don't 'Sabrina' me, asshole. This is all your fault! You just had to throw that goddamn party!" In which a friendship between four friends falls apart...