Beneath the Sharps & Flats

♫Chapter 1- Running Into Mr. Player♫

Proofread by the_jane_insane

Enjoy(:

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Chapter One

"Can you even?"

My best friend Weslyn says this as I shoot her a questioning glance through the mirror.

"What?" I ask.

"Ya know, can you even?"

"What the fudge do you mean by that anyway?" I say, wincing as the curling iron brushes my ear.

"Sorry," Wes apologizes before replying, "It's kind of a saying for when and if you can't or can do something."

"Okay, speak English please."

She rolls her eyes and smiles. "For example, say you're strolling down the hall and you drop all you books. You just throw your hands up in frustration and shout, 'I can't even!' if you know what I mean."

I smile shake my head lightly so I don't damage my newly curled hair. "You're unbelievable, you know that right?"

"And you're hot," she replies, grinning satisfyingly at me through the mirror.

I turn around and give her a look. "I'm hot? I think you're talking about yourself again, Wes."

She just scowls at me, "Why can't you ever acknowledge that you're beautiful for one measly second?"

"Because I'm not," I snort and stalk out of the steaming bathroom to my room.

Luckily, Wes drops the subject and follows me to my room. I plop down on my bed, raking my eyes over my closet stuffed with clothing as my curls dangle loosely. Wes already knows what I want her to do when she starts sifting through my clothing.

"Perfect," she cries in delight after a minute. She skips out of my closet clutching a crop top covered in miniature flowers. I gape in horror.

"Absolutely not," I blurt immediately.

She glares at me. "Why not? You'll have boys kneeling at your feet when they see you."

"I don't even know how you found that," I sigh, exasperated.

"Fine," she huffs, "don't wear it then. At least wear the shorts." She shows me the tight-fitting pink jean shorts as I scoff.

"What do you take me for, a hoe?" I'm seriously starting to doubt our friendship with the clothing suggestions she makes.

"Just put it on," she snaps, annoyed. I grit my teeth and snatch them from her as she buries herself in my clothing once again and surfaces again with a see-through blue lace shirt which also has flowers etched into it. I give her a look and snatch it from her anyway as she grins triumphantly.

At least it's better than the crop top, I think positively. This is what you get when you make friends with Wes.

I pull down my night shorts, not caring if I change in front of Wes. We've been in that kind of friendship where we don't care if we strip nude in front of each other. After all, we're both girls and not perverted males attempting to sneak glances at girls' asses when they bend over to pick up a pencil.

Yeah, boys think us girls don't notice, but they couldn't be more obvious with their blatant staring. I pull on the tight "boy-attracting-shorts" and a white tank top. I then slip the blue lace shirt over my tank top and pull it over the top band of the pink shorts.

"You're smexy," Wes says, grinning. "And just think, I made you look like this."

"Thank you," I retort sarcastically. "The shorts don't even reach my fingertips." I place my arms down by my side to demonstrate.