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chubby bunny
"Chubby bunny."
Penny and I repeat the solemn words, each of us with three marshmallows in our mouths. We're all crowded in Liv's room, which is surrounded by pastel pink walls, a unique variety of snow globes, and endless shelves of books. Liv is on the bed, watching us suffer.
"Four for each," Liv announces with a grin as we take another one in our mouths, then saying Chubby Bunny.
I silently applause for whoever invented this cruel game.
I decided on a sleepover spontaneously, but took Penny with me after seeing how lonely she looked on the living room couch. I'm close enough to Liv that she doesn't mind if I bring my little sister along. And I'm not that heartless.
We showed up in Liv's door, carrying a bucket of popcorn in pyjamas and bunny slippers. The thing is, I didn't tell Liv beforehand, so the shocked look on her face was priceless. I said hi to her adoptive parents, each with much darker skin — not like Liv who is pale as snow. Penny, though, still takes her time staring at her African-American parents like they grew talons.
Liv clicks her tongue. "Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
Penny gasps and shakes her head, right before spitting out all the marshmallows in a nearby trashcan. "I can't," she wheezes.
I'm grinning so hard, but my mouth is no doubt drooling right now. Every corner is stuffed with soft, sweet marshmallows, and I'm almost numb to the taste. But my pride overweighs it all.
"Nine," Liv says dazedly, looking at my every move. "Ten."
I guess that was satisfying enough. I raise my arms and scream "Chubby Bunny!" while Penny and Liv laugh as they watch me try to consume each of the marshmallows. Most of them are already melting rather gross in my mouth, but I force all the bittersweetness in my throat. Like the champion I am, I raise both my fists in the air.
Five minutes later, I puke.
"Gross!" Penny sniffs, but I really can't concentrate when my head is on the toilet seat, and I'm gagging for breath.
"Uggghhhhh," I groan. My throat is on fire.
Liv pulls back the strands falling from my handmade bun. "Breathe," she hisses. "Let it out of your system."
"Please talk me out of this next time."
"I bet you're cursing your competitive consciousness now."
I gag even more harder, and I shoo Liv out of the bathroom so I can wash myself and spray my body with her strawberry-scented perfume.
When I get out, they're both sprawled on her bed. I send Liv a weak smile. "Sorry for your bathroom."
She shrugs. "It'll be a good story to tell." That's why I love her. "Are you okay?"
"Better," I grin. I jump on the bed and tackle Penny, rubbing her head like the little girl she is. "Wasn't that a great game, squirt?!"
"I hate your games!" But she giggles as I start to tickle her, and Liv joins in.
"Your sister has worst games to play," Liv remarks, giving me a knowing smirk.
Ah, yes. Playing matchmaker. The creation of Dalton High's first Golden Couple. I would be making history.
And it's sort of like a competition. There's levels to pass, challenges to face, and a prize in the end. Whether that prize be that people will look differently at me, or just Justine Reynolds, the thrill is still there.
"Best competition I've ever done," I state proudly.
Penny tires, and Liv lays her head down. "Of course you'd see it as a competition. Playing with the player," she mumbles. "I know this is too late, but isn't that kinda dangerous?"
"It's not if you know what kind of game you're playing."
This time, she scoffs. "And you do?"
I turn to her. I know she's not serious because she has a smile in her eyes. But my own smile falters. "For my sake, I sure hope I do."
***
Justine and I are by the benches, both on our phones.
Don't ask me how we got here. I don't even know. Something about free periods and bored lives. And I didn't ignore how she asked for me specifically and prefers my presence than her so-called best friends.
My chest fills up with gratitude.
"What are you doing?" she asks, looking over my screen.
"Playing this new game called Flappy Bird," I mutter, tongue peeking from my mouth as I try to concentrate. Yes! "It's totally addicting. You should try it."
She snorts. "I think one addiction is enough."
Game Over. "Shoot! I died." Justine chuckles, and I turn to her. "What addiction are we talking about here? Nicotine? Coke?"
"Instagram," she quips, showing me a detailed version of a photo of her in Miami Beach. "I'm editing a picture to post later. It's tiring."
"Then why don't you stop?"
"Can't," she says simply.
I frown as I watch her screen again. Do girls actually waste time editing their pictures like that? It's like learning more and more of how much time Justine puts in perfecting her image. And maybe a lot of other girls before her.
She closes the app, and I notice her background. "Oh, that looks pretty."
She glances up like this is the first time someone has said that. "Thanks." It's an arrangement of yellow lilies. "Got it from Tumblr. Thought it complement my looks."
"Sort of does." She grins at me, and an idea shoots up in my head like a lightbulb. I save it somewhere in the deepest parts of my mind.
"How's the interview going, by the way?"
I blink. I'm too focused on the next number on the List. "What?"
"The interview." Justine raises an eyebrow. "The one for the Student Council? The special edition about a student, in this case, me?"
Oh my God. "Right!" I chuckle. "It's going pretty well, actually. With all the exclusive content you're giving me." I nudge her shoulder to show her how chill I am. "I've written some stuff, actually." I haven't written anything. "Everyone will know the real you — the real Justine Reynolds — just like you want them to. And it's right before your final year."
"Can I see some of it?" She beams.
"No." I blurt. "It's a surprise."
She squints at me a little, but manages to smile. "Better be a good one, then."
"Trust me," I smile, and the lie and guilt almost burns my tongue. "It's going to be perfect."
***
Target is in place.
Plan of action is established. Slowly, deliberately.
And then I run.
Swiftly, Jude turns around and grasps both my outstretched hands. I wriggle my wrists, but he's holding them high on his chest, in a strong grip but not too much that it'll leave a bruise.
"How can you — "
"Your fucking shadow was following you," he snaps. His green eyes are on fire, but it's probably just his nature. He's not as angry as I thought he always was. But that doesn't mean he's not scary anymore.
His grip loosens and I instantly step back, rubbing my aching wrists. His expression softens immediately, and he runs a frustrated hand over his blonde hair.
"You ruined my surprise attack," I mumble.
"No, you did."
"Lies." I poke his shoulder. " You just had to turn on your wolf senses and catch me coming."
He has that agitated look on his face. "Wolf senses?"
"Nevermind."
Then his phone rings. That's when I realise we haven't exchanged phone numbers yet — I have Justine's and Trey's — but it's not like it's compulsory. Jude stares at the screen for a while, eyebrows still scrunched, and pockets his phone back after a little deliberation.
I raise my eyebrows. "You're not going to pick that up?"
"Isn't that what I just fucking did?"
"Careful, Jude," I say in a Sensei voice. "That might be your girlfriend. Now, I don't know her personally, but she would likely rip your head off if you don't call her back."
He glares at me. "Don't tell me you're talking about Hailee."
So. Her name is Hailee.
"It was just one date," he explains. "That's all."
It's like a light bulb just flickered inside me. "Oh my God," I mutter. "She was a one night stand?"
I'm obviously talking about the girl he laid eyes on during my go-kart fiasco. He cringes, embarrassed and looking guilty, and for some reason I'm satisfied at his reaction. It shows that he didn't really like the girl. Then I frown, wondering why I even care.
Then my phone rings.
It's Trey. Yes! I can update him about our next plan. I'm about to pick up, but Jude speaks first.
"Let me guess. It's Gonzalez?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?" It must be his wolf senses.
"Your face," he states. "It's... different somehow."
Different? I don't know what he means. I look at Trey like anybody else would. Honoured, glad, excited. But it's the other thing he said — your face. That implies that he was looking at me. Studying me. I blush for no reason.
"Well, he's better company than you," I laugh nervously.
He rolls his eyes. "Talk to me again when you're not under Gonzalez's spell." A couple of shouts arise near us, and Jude whips his head at the direction. He waves at the people behind me; I'm guessing they're his friends. Footsteps coming closer. Oh.
"Okayseeyoubye," I say quickly, darting forward to the school gates.
I hear Jude's laughter fade as I walk away, but my cheeks are still burning.
A/N: Hmm. Interesting.