HIS FAVORITE GINGER ✓

FOURTEEN.

"SO I WAS LIKE, 'LAYLA we're through!' As simple as that, no additions, no subtractions. She was probably expecting it but that didn't, in any way help the lurid look on her face when I dropped the bombshell."

The horde - as Grayson likes to call them - burst into obnoxious cachinnations. Grayson rolls his eyeballs till they hit the top of his cranium and bounce back to the bottom of his jaw. He never understands what they find so funny in every word he speaks, like Kevin Hart who people find funny but isn't even hilarious a damn bit. This popularity of a thing is starting to tire him and his nerves are starting to tingle in irritation. Or maybe he is just not in the mood for their attention. Grayson should be chillaxing in the Bahamas right now since things with his girlfriend are more buttoned up than Tyga's career - which has lifted a colossal burden off his poor back. There are other cogent things his back is supporting and it's been complaining of a certain naggy redhead bitch.

Grayson quickly formulates a plan to get the horde's obsequious asses off him. He didn't vouch for a paparazzi when coming to highschool. He excuses himself to the restroom - of course they won't trail him there too like a pack of lapwolves.

His best friend accompanies him to the guys' restroom which pretty much looks like any other typical high school restroom with the horrid, nonchalant writings on the wall and what not. A familiar scent of a familiar someone hits Grayson' nostrils almost immediately. He's unable to grab at a single clue though.

"So no more Layla?" Damien says with a hint of ecstasy in his voice. He is casually checking his nails with his back on the grimy wall of Crescent High's boys shithole.

"Ha Ha." Grayson sneers as he walks towards the large mirror. There is a hideously humorous caricature drawn by a pink lipstick. The Donald Trump has a dick for a nose and a dialogue box hovering over him saying 'ivanka's pussy is way too dry to be riding my fish stick'.

"So now you wanna advance with Alejandro, even after you messed up real bad?"

Grayson pauses for a second. He gives his best friend a long look and turns back to the mirror. He doesn't really feel like talking about it at the moment. Memories of yesterday precipitates bubbles of unease within him. Apart from the bandages caking his entire body like a larva, the visit to the dentist this morning was like he starred in a reality horror TV show. "I suddenly feel like taking selfies." The white blonde declares out of the blue. He rolls out his Samsung Galaxy from his pocket and dives towards Snapchat. Grayson obviously cannot afford an iPhone like the rest of his mates since all his earnings go to either rent, groceries, school and what not. Thank heavens he's free of a certain cankerworm named Layla Barnes.

Grayson feels Damien's gaze burning through his back like fire bullets from a flame gun - well Grayson merely sees Damien through the mirror while he lifts up his shirt; his abs are thirsty for some mirror selfies.

Damien bends over with a scowl on his face as he uproots a persistent bubblegum from beneath his trainers. "Just to spend time with him, you risked getting a F. You've not told him that was intentional, have you?"

Grayson snaps his head backwards. "Of course not! And please lower your voice. Someone might be listening." The sound of a flushing toilet confirms this and the blonde sighs. "Also -" Grayson is cut off mid-sentence by the sound of his destitute stomach notifying him it is still alive and not photosynthetic. Grayson rubs the poor thing sympathetically; lunch is now ten minutes from over.