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MORNING BROUGHT ABOUT a pounding headache, that assaulted me mercilessly with waves of pain and regret. The pounding music from the prior night's party had left a dull ringing in my ears. I sat up to the sound of my alarm, last night's events rushing back to me. Glancing at the alarm on my bedside table, I reluctantly reached out to press the snooze button.

Oh hell. Caleb and I had left that party together. I couldn't imagine what people were thinking. That we'd slept together? That we'd... done a lot more than just sleep together? Nothing of the sort had happened, of course. He'd only given me a ride home. People were superficial. They could twist their words and thoughts into powerful rumors. And I knew well from experience, that rumors were lethal.

It was a situation I couldn't get out of. I could go with the rumors, or tell the truth. It was over my dead body that I would ever go with such rumors, so it would have to be the truth. But what was a boring truth against a juicy rumor?

I hadn't been on the receiving end of a rumor in a long time. Fear coursed through me as I hastily climbed out of bed. I didn't want to think about this, on a sunny Saturday morning. Thankfully, my shift at the pizza parlor where I worked happened to be today. A distraction was exactly what I needed. Still half drunk with sleep, I trudged to the bathroom to put on my uniform. Today was going to be a long day.

Unfortunately, I'd agreed to waste a perfectly good Friday by allowing Amanda Dandridge, my best friend, to drag me out of the couch to attend a house party. Honestly, I didn't need a party to entertain me. All I needed was a little Monica and Chandler from Friends and life was complete. That's what best friends are for, I suppose. To force you to do stupid things with them, even if you don't want to. Best friends can be quite evil sometimes when they know they have that power.

I considered this as I slipped into my outfit for work: a checkered red and black apron atop a collared long sleeve shirt, paired with jet black leggings. Even though I hadn't wanted to go to the party, I hadn't had much of a choice. There was no fighting or getting out of it when it came to Amanda, as I knew from experience. I probably would've had more luck pretending I didn't see her text about going to the party. Amanda was as stubborn as a mule when it came to getting her way.

My hopes for an uneventful day of work filled me with newfound positivity as I drove to Benny's Pizza Parlor, a 1970s style diner, that was located a few miles from North Heights High School. The pizza parlor was a magnet of attraction for our high school. But on weekends, it was surprisingly empty, especially when there were other enticing hangout places, such as school events, sports games, and parties. I hardly expected to see anyone I knew. This was unfortunately not the case.

Sitting on the diner-style benches, sat the death of me, infamously known as my best friend. She was impatiently tapping the counter while watching the door. Amanda had started working at the diner about a month ago after I'd recommended she get a job. She was dressed in the same uniform as I was, and was no doubt, waiting for me. When I pushed open the diner door and trudged in, she instantly jumped off of the stool and dashed towards me. She looked somewhat flustered, but her eyes flashed right to life. "Emeraude Ivory. Caleb Bates - Golden Boy - kissed you. You better start talking, right now, before I go ballistic and start screaming!"

Caleb Bates was a gorgeous being. Possibly the most gorgeous of the human race... maybe after Zac Efron? Of course, everything had its downside. He didn't date much. For him, a relationship lasted probably two days as a casual fling. It was well known that he didn't do the whole girlfriend thing. Because if he did, he certainly wouldn't be single.

Amanda and I had coined him the nickname Golden Boy, which was a codename that Amanda had come up with. Through the first two years of high school, she'd harbored possibly the most obvious crush on him. In order to remain secretive about it, she'd code-named him Golden Boy, so that she could refer to him without the risk of being exposed about her crush. I had to admit, the nickname suited him perfectly. He was well admired by the general school population. Athletic, smart, friendly, and gorgeous, of course. Chiseled jawline, amber flecked hazel eyes, tall, and slightly messy hair. Yeah, absolutely golden. Just like his name.

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