I'm starting to fool myself with the whole fake-boyfriend thing. Next thing I know, I'm going to start calling the guy to come rescue me.
"Now that's juicy!" Rude Jude says.
The bell rings - saving me from actually responding to Rude Jude. Seriously, I prefer the Queen Bees to be rude. Not nosy. I basically sprint to the parking lot and let my smile grow when I see Jessy is already waiting.
"Heyyyyyyy, Gurl!"
"Sup, Loser!" I greet back.
We hop into the Ford and drive back home. No goons are following us, fortunately.
"Who's ready for the weekend?!" Jessy yells after turning the radio up. I can't recognize the song, but it's fun and happy and after I minute I'll probably start singing along.
"ME!" I answer.
"Who's ready to party?!"
"Me!"
"Who's ready to possibly make bad choices!?"
"Me...?"
"Who's going to probably have something happen that will make you regret even going, but then in a few years you'll be like: 'eh, it wasn't as bad,' because you'll have a good husband and take your kids to soccer!?"
"Uhh... is it still me?"
"I've kind'a lost where I was going with, but HELL YEAH! WE'RE GOING TO PARTY LIKE IT'S TWENTY-TWENTY! Because by then, we'll both actually be more than legal to drink and we'll be in college and have some more experience with parties..."
I'm not sure how to respond to that so I resort to just smiling back.
"I've been out of the game for a while," Jessy explains and this time, we laugh.
When Jessy and I get to the house, we sprint up the stairs, dive for her room and stare at our options that's splayed across her bed. Jessy has to pick between a dress and a pretty white-crop top. It's Jessy, so I already know she'll pick the crop-top.
"Uhm... I'm taking the crop-top..."
And I can officially become a fortune-teller.
My options are a little more diverse. I have a short red dress and a mini beige jump-suit as options from Jessy's closet. And then a short vintage black pencil skirt with a pale-red crop-top that has some floral print as an option from my closet.
I'm honestly not even surprised when my phone gets a buzz from Mysterious Fucker - telling me to pick the pencil skirt. I have to start keeping an eye out for cameras around the house. God, now I'll never be able to dress without feeling like someone's watching me!
I text Mysterious Fucker back and ask them to stop spying on me. Or at the very least, to not look when I'm dressing.
They don't respond.
"Who was that?" Jessy asks when I let out a frustrated breath.
I look back up at my cousin. "Uhh..." Maybe now's a good time to come clean?
"Well, actually, I don't know. I've been getting messages from an unknown number," I start off with and then go ahead and tell her everything. I come clean, because I know better than to keep shit to myself when Jessy might be able to help me.
"OH MY GOD, THE GANGS HAVE A BET ON YOU?!" she yells when I'm done.
"Yeah... but it's not as bad as it sounds! I told them I have a boyfriend and they don't know that I know," I try to explain.
YOU ARE READING
Two Gangs and a Golden Girl
Teen Fiction"I didn't ask to be in the middle of your ego-battle," I grumble. Blake pins me to my locker, hands resting on either side of my head. "Well, you got it in anyway, Darling," he whispers. His face is inches away from mine and damn me for licking my l...
Chapter 13, Finally Friday
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