𝐨𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 || steve randles sister

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬

it's been two whole days since i dropped stephane back home with her mom. lemme tell you, she had loads of stories to tell her that were a little precise on the details. i manipulated her into thinking that the perv chase we did was just a story from a book pony was reading, and something in that little head of hers decided to believe it.

kids. the easiest people to trick in the world.

i was hanging out the briggs and archie tonight after cheer practice ended. we planned on taking a road trip down a little far south to see arch's older brother for a wad of cash he's been growing interest on for quite a while now.

and by interest i mean stealing a little here and there and just about everywhere to grow a few bucks.

they had some deal about trading the money for some joints and you best believe it we were all in for a chip of the money. cheer practice wasn't all that fun. we were working mainly on double back tucks, and pyramids, just waiting for one of us to crack a wrist.

coach genna was in a shitty mood, all reading from the look of fierce anger she was wearing on her face since the moment i walked in the door. my spandex were ass tight as a crowd of grass lighters grew in the gymnasium stadium, waiting endlessly for me to finish, so our little field trip could begin.

i could tell archie was looking directly at my ass. it was definitely defined in his personality to do just that with any girl he was comfortable with, which in the end was probably only me. to get them to shut up in the stands was a miracle itself, one i was unfortunately never granted with.

everyone could tell that they belonged to me, being that almost every five seconds they'd scream something along the lines of

"FUCK YEAH OLIVE."

or

"DAMN RIGHT RANDLE, YOU DO THAT FLIP."

leading to my theory that there's a point in time when you wish illiteracy on someone, and today was definitely the day i started praying.

"alright everyone, go home, i'm ending practice early tonight. see you all tomorrow morning." genna stated, from the middle of our team huddle.

she was a germ freak. didn't nesacarily like teenagers all up in her face or business.

personally, i'd say it's mental illness. i mean, you touch her and it's like she's about ready to scrub her skin off right to the bone.

it's like if you talk to her at all, you've gotta stay at least six feet away so you don't infect her with your nonexistent teenage drama filled germs and diseases.

"olive randle," she began, as the rest of the team started to walk away, finding their belongings and walking out the gym door.

"come here for a second." she instructed, waving cheery and a few of her friends down as well.

"you're teaching them triple round offs this weekend. i don't care what you're doing with your life, we have priorities olive, start making mine one of yours." she finished, slowly stepping back from us before the conversation even came to an end.

it's all about the germs, i'm tellin ya.

"you're fucking up my weekend." cherry sighed, after genna became a safe distance away.

"same here sugar plum, it's not all about your problems." i smirked, walking towards my bag, as she walked the same way to get hers.

our movements were almost identical.

"you're a son of a bitch." she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically towards me.

"and you're a son of a whore." i frowned, tilting my head to the side, pretending for a second longer that i actually cared.