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Jamie
We’re all standing in the school parking lot, saying goodbye to our parents – or not for the ones whose parents don’t bother about their kids’ life. Mom and Emily’s dad, Carl, are chatting away while my best friend and I catch up on last weekend.
“‘Me…I still can’t believe it.”
“You think you can’t believe it? I feel like crap, Em,” I rasp.
“Nathan White. You slept with Nathan White. You slept with Jake’s brother.”
“I slept with my ex-boyfriend,” I correct as if one cancels the other.
“Yup, that would be the twins’ older brother.”
I run a hand over my face. “Em, please stop.”
“You slept with Lucifer, ‘Me! I can’t stop!”
My eyes widen and I look behind me to check that none of our parents heard. They’re still talking, completely ignoring us.
“Shush yourself,” I snap. “This isn’t funny!”
She nods silently, pinching her lips to avoid smiling. She stays silent but her eyes bore into me, and I know she’s waiting for something.
“Just ask already,” I sigh.
“How was it?” she almost squeals.
“It was really damn good and a huge mistake. There are reasons I’m not with Nathan anymore. A few of them would include he’s a liar—”
“A drug lord,” she adds.
“A manipulator.”
“Probably a murderer,” she says looking up in the air as if she is thinking really hard about all the things Nathan could have done.
“He’s older,” I keep going, almost as if to myself.
“Oh, and he’s Jake’s brother,” she nods harshly.
“And a bully,” I conclude in a sigh.
“Well…that never bothered you before. That is actually probably why you slept with him. ‘Me, you’re a naughty girl who likes very bad boys. And that’s fine, but you need to be careful. Jake broke your heart, Nathan will do the same.”
I let out a huff, my heart pinches every single time she pronouncesJake.
“Nathan can’t break my heart,” I admit. Her brows rise in question, and I quickly add. “He doesn’t hold it in the palm of his hands like Jake does. I never truly gave it to him.”
Which is a shame, because Jake took pleasure in breaking my heart.
The sounds of the three buses’ motors starting up make us both snap our heads toward where they’re parked. Coach Thompson and Coach Swift make their way toward the middle of all of us and parents and students settle around them.
“Alright everyone,” Coach Swift calls out. “Cheer team is coming with me and Mr. Ashton in bus one, Women’s team is going with Coach Thompson in bus two, and Men’s team is going with Mr. Corragan and Ms. Randall in bus three.”
A lot of complaints rise, as it did last year when we were all separated for the buses.
“It’s so stupid,” Emily mumbles to me. “It’s not like we’re going to do any practicing on the buses, I don’t need to be with all those bitches.”
She loves some of the cheerleaders, but she really does hate the others. One in particular. And just as my best friend and I think about her, she stands out of the crowd and towards the first bus.
