Everyone's their own Gossip Girl *BOOK PREVIEW*

Gossip #14:

Michelle could imagine it.

She glared at her phone, knowing if she was to flip open the screen, her phone would throw horrible things at her. Even without being at school, the whole message went around about Michelle’s and Eric’s secret affair. Her phone was blowing up from messages from all of her friends, asking her if it was true or not. Even Eric’s phone seemed to be blowing up on the latest news topic, more than half of those seeming to relate to him. Or at least, that’s how Michelle had imagined it.

Michelle was still at The Palace, her hair bounced upside down and backwards in the silk robe Eric had lent from his bathroom. She had her phone in her hand, and she was trying extremely hard not to reply back. She didn’t want people to think she was some over-rated slut. She had a crystal clear reputation and if that night meant it all being thrown into the trash, she would have no more life. Michelle wasn’t even sure how the news got around since Monica was still in her bed sleeping and Katrina and Andrea were probably crying over how stupid it was. Maybe it was Eric, or did one of the girls really just tell absolutely everyone on their contacts list? And what would her parents say? What would they do?

Probably ground her for the rest of eternity, Michelle thought gingerly. She smacked the phone onto the wooden drawers as she sat herself back onto the side of the bed. She could smell Eric all over her clothes, and she didn’t even know if it was good or bad.

Good that the guy wore her favourite cologne, or bad that she had a guy scent on her.

“You ready?” Eric asked from the bathroom. He swung open the door and hot steam came pouring out. He was in the same blue bathrobe as he was two weeks ago, his dark hair wet and styled in all different directions. Even without hair gel and proper attire, the guy seemed perfect to Michelle.

Noticing that smirk on his face, Michelle shuddered.

Nope, not as perfect.

“Sure,” Michelle hissed as she grabbed her phone and slipped it into the black Chanel. She needed to get home and she wasn’t too sure if her hangover had completed it’s torture. It wasn’t like Michelle the whole drunken experience was new to her, and it definitely wasn’t like she had never been partying at The Palace, but it seemed odd with Katrina, Andrea and Monica, the same girls she used to have innocent sleepovers with were her new “drinking pals”. She wondered why she had gotten the horrible throbbing and some sudden desire to be alone with Eric, and in the bed? It was worse she was even close to him, but to sleep with him wasted?

Michelle was still glad she had the common sense not to give out her virginity right away, but it was disgusting. Eric was a player and she would just be another fragment to his “collection”. She wasn’t even sure how many girls Eric had done and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

There was no way she was going to pressed down to one of those sluts. She flipped the screen and got her thumbs working immediately. There was no point in telling everybody that you got laid if all you did was kiss drunken, so there was no point in agreeing to the gossip.

She stretched her fingers over the “texts” button and gasped for the worst. Except there was nothing to endure. They weren’t messages from anyone. Oh my God, did Michelle now have a case of phone addict’s disease or was she worrying too much over the fact she might have sold herself to the man whore if she had just taken another shot glass?

Eric watched like a hawk as Michelle slowly put her bag to her shoulder, snaking the jacket over her bodice. Michelle’s hair was massive, looking like one of those cute cartoons where the heads were obviously way too heavy for the neck and the body. She glanced over at Eric who was leaning against the doorjamb, already dressed in his Ralph Polo and Marc Jacobs.