The Bad Boy and the Piano Girl (Book #1)

Chapter Fourty Three: Ryan vs Landon

At this, my ears perk up. Vinyls? Yes please.

"Deal."

***

After contemplating for over an hour over which one to get, I finally settle on 'The Works' by Queen.

If Landon was here he'd probably argue that 'The Game' album was a better choice.

Stop thinking about Landon, I scold my brain.

No, my brain replies.

Wait isn't my brain supposed to listen to me? I think it's defective.

The basketball stadium is filled, leaving hardly any seats for my dad and I. He gives me a 'This is all your fault look'.

"Vinyl shopping is hard work!" I defend, making him playfully roll his eyes.

I'll never understand why our town cares so much for basketball. It's literally sweaty guys throwing an orange ball around.

"HEIDI!" I whip my head around to see Dylan waving me over and pointing to two empty seats.

I look around trying to find any other spare seats. I'll literally sit anywhere except with Dylan.

"OI BITCH MY ARMS ARE GETTING TIRED!" He shouts.

"What a nice boy." My dad smiles, walking over to him. Nice? He just called your daughter a bitch!

I groan, following my dad. When we reach the seats, Dad sits next to Landon's parents leaving me with Dylan.

"Hey."

"I'm still not talking to you." I keep my eyes focussed on the basketball court.

He waves his arms. "What did I do!"

"You pretended to be my friend and helped Landon with his stupid plan!"

"True, I see your point. But I actually like you now! I mean, you were a bitch at the start, but then I saw your cool bitch side, not to mention that l-"

I put my hand over his mouth. "Dyl, please shut up."

He mumbles something.

"What?"

He mumbles again.

"What? Wait I have an idea." I remove my hand. "There."

"Wow you're a real genius." He states sarcastically. I roll my eyes. "I said, I'm sorry please forgive meee."

"Hmm."

"Pleaseee?"

"Hmmmmm."

"PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?" He screeches, making me jump.

"OH MY GOD OKAY FINE YOU'RE FORGIVEN! Fuck my ears!" I hold my ears which are now throbbing.

Lisa Knight leans over. "Dylan honey, did you see a moth again?"

"He's scared of moths?" I laugh.

She nods. "They make him scream like a little girl."

"That's such a lie!" He exclaims.

"Fine, let's test it out." I pretend to reach into my bag.

"NO!" He squeaks.

Dylan Prescott. The 6"2' drummer boy who's terrified of moths. Ladies, call him.

"The games about to start!" Carlos, Landon's father, shushes us.

The players from the opposing team enter the court one by one.