"Shout for those who can only whisper, defend those who cannot defend themselves.....
"C'mon guys, it's not that bad," Derek insists with a frown.
"That is by far, the worst piece of clothing I have ever set my eyes on," Malory says without even sounding a tad bit sympathetic for the guy. That's my bestie, the brutal candor.
"You look like a rainbow fairy threw up on you, then charged you ten bucks for the inconvenience," says James with a monotonous tone that somehow makes the affront more hilarious. I bite my cheek, painfully suppressing the howls of laughter that threaten to escape my lips. Malory and James don't seem to care and cackle anyway.
He shifts pleading brown orbs to me. Telepathically screaming for my support on this. I look down at his horrible, horrible, shirt. It's a simple collared shirt but looks like someone dipped a hand in different kinds of cheap paint and splattered it all over the shirt, it has some sort of ruffle-like thing happening on the shoulder and the buttons don't even match. I try, and I mean really try, to see it from a different perspective, but no matter what view point I look at it, it looks horrendous.
"Who did this to you Derek?" I ask, finally giving up and laughing along with James and Malory. He gives each of us his stink eye.
"I don't expect any better from either of you. I happened to be part of the soccer team that kicked the Eagles' butt yesterday and I'm still celebrating that, so I'm willing to let you all off the hook. Now if you would excuse me..." He side steps us and storms off. I keep laughing. I'm not the least bit worried that we ired him. Knowing Derek, he'll certainly be back. Malory wipes imaginary tears from her cheeks.
"We acted like douchebags," I point out as I punch in the passcode to my locker and Mal unintentionally mirrors my actions.
"Serves him right for telling everyone about the magazine incident," James growls.
The magazine incident happens to be the one that occurred the time James's mom found fashion magazines under his bed and freaked out, long story. Unfortunately for James, it was right at the time Derek dropped by. Derek had promised not to say anything. Then he spilled the beans when everyone was over at my house. I will never forget the shade of pink James's face turned that day. Classic. Malory laughs unmeaningly, earning a glare from James.
"What guy reads magazines anyway?" I ask. I drop my english textbook and grab AP history which is what I have next. Malory picks biology.
"Yeah. What happened to video games and sports channels?" Malory asks, resting her book on her left hip which she tilts to the side.
"You guys are being really sexist right now, you know that? I like to read magazines, so what?" He glares at us both.
"Um...sure, if you need a vogue anytime, just give me a holler," James obviously didn't note the sarcasm in Malory's tone or perhaps, he simply chose to ignore it.
"That'd be great, I've read all my other ones more times than I can count. I'll be needing a new one," He flashes her a grin while she blinks at him like he's gone utterly bonkers. I find myself laughing because I can't help it.
Jace walks by and hands me a high five which I'm prepared for because it's a well repeated action. He winks at Malory and throws James a mini salute with the widest grin ever, then he moves on with long strides down the hallway. I would consider it rude that he didn't stop to say hi, if I didn't know him, that is.
Jace Newin is a gesture guy. He waves, winks, high fives, fist bumps, salutes, hell, I'm even surprised he doesn't curtsey!, but hardly stops for a chat.
Jace could hang out with us the whole day and only speak two words, I am not joking, two frigging words which will include the 'hi' of when we meet up and the 'bye' of when we all go our separate ways. He is the kind of person whose voice you'd forget easily because he doesn't use it much. Everyone acquainted with him is used to his fetishes by now. I glance at James and I certainly don't miss the longing emotion in his eyes as he stares at Jace's retreating figure. I and Malory share a look, silently communicating through our eyes as besties do.
We have long deducted the fact that there's a 75% chance James might be gay and he doesn't even know it....or maybe he does, who knows?
Because, aside from the obvious reasons which include;
1. We've never seen him flirt with a girl, talk less of actually asking one out.
2. He is currently ogling a guy and we might have caught him doing this yesterday too. (To the same guy),
Previously, James had walked in on Malory wearing nothing but a hot pink coloured bra and black tight tights and James Conelly did not once flush in horny embarassment, (which is the reaction you would expect from a guy), or stare at her assets like a perv, (another reaction which is highly expected from boys)...hell, he didn't even acknowledge her!
I had to nicely kick him out of my room before Mal would decide to stab him and stack his body in one of her fridges. Now, this is the crazy part so brace yourselves.....He. was. befuddled. He couldn't figure out why he was temporarily banished from my room!, So?.....Can we crank the percentage up to 95 now?
Mal sends me a secret wink and I can't help the devious smile that crawls up on my lips. James eyes us suspiciously.
"You're up to something, aren't you?. You both have the same looks you had before you somehow, with some unknown magical powers, manipulated me into agreeing to that stupid hot tub bet," He points raising a skeptical brow and scrutinizing us suspiciously. Malory shrugs innocently while I find a sudden interest on my purple skechers...my brand new kicks.
The bell rings a minute later to our reliefs and we both bolt to our classes before James can pinpoint what's going on in our brains. Sometimes, he's that good.
"Rachel Michigan....present. Russell Brand....Here. Reece Reynolds..." Silence. Miss Olive looks up over the rim of her glasses the same second every one turns to the back of the class. I don't even bother, I bet my lunch money he's not even paying attention.
She clears her throat whilst throwing him a stern look. I adjust on my seat and look behind me to see Reece typing heaven- knows- what on his phone. Shocker.
His posture is so easy, cool and effortless, you would think he were posing for a photoshoot. (Not that he can't easily pass for a GQ model).
He sits right by the windows at the left end of the classroom, one leg folded under his desk and one stretched out. His lean frame slouches on the chair while he stares down at his phone. His head lowered slightly, causes some strands of his brown hair to fall down to his eyes and it doesn't seem to bother him in the least.
The sunlight streams through the windows beside him highlighting his features and casting shadows at the other side of his face. I resist the urge to sigh. It isn't easy, believe me.
It's not like he needs any more help looking handsome but I guess mother nature just can't help herself. Can't blame her.
His dark red hoodie covers some of his features, but still, that chiseled jaw does not go unnoticed. His blue eyes continue to stare impassively at his phone oblivious to the world around him and the twenty something people staring at him including a very pissed history teacher.
I begin to sweat beneath my hoodie. And not because I just ogled a really hot guy. Really, it isn't!
Reece looks up, and as if summoned, his eyes immediately meet mine.
I look away, shifting on my seat to stare at the pen I am currently twirling around my fingertips. I definitely did not miss the smirk he threw me a second before I turned.
Miss Olive confiscates Reece's phone and finally returns to the front of the class. I can almost feel his stare burning a hole through my head. I don't know how I know he's looking at me. I just know.
The history teacher briefly throws Reece a warning look before she continues with roll-call.
Liam always sits by me during history whining on and on about how much he dislikes the subject. I continue to assure him that no one likes it anyway.
"But it makes no sense, why should I give a fuck what happened in this goddamn world in the past?, I don't even care what's happening right now!" He groans and rests his head on my shoulder. I laugh silently.
"No one likes it here so quit whining like a baby before you get into trouble and I definitely won't take the blame for you like last time," I warn. He sighs and sits up, pouting at me and giving me puppy dog eyes. I shake my head and roll my eyes at his silliness but smile anyway.
"Shall we begin?....Who can tell the class why Missouri's application for statehood caused a political crisis in 1819?, Liam?" I almost burst out laughing but quickly think better of it. Liam swears under his breath.
I walk through the hallway to my locker, hands in the pockets of my black ripped jeans and ear buds loudly playing Charlie Puth's 'Attention'. I bob my head left and right in response to the music.
I stop abruptly when I see a figure holding Malory hostage with two arms at each side of her head pressed on her locker. It doesn't take me long to realize it's a guy. He whispers something and leans in way too close for comfort. My first instinct is to go there and smash his nuts but I decide to be really sure. Malory laughs almost immediately and every suspicion washes away. It's probably one of Tony's pals.
I'm about to dismiss it and go search for Chester but I stop when she laughs again. Hm, there's something not quite right about that laugh. Her third round of laughter is all I need to figure out that it's not genuine. Her 'That's seriously not funny' laugh, is sometimes hard to distinguish from her regular, 'I might pee in my pants' laugh. But having spent a lot of time with her, I've learnt to tell the difference.
I pause the music and pull out my earbuds trying to figure out what exactly is going on. And then I recognize the face. It's that stupid wanker, Jake. My fists clench.
"C'mon babe, don't you wanna go out with me? Huh?" He whispers into her ear.
"Sorry, I'm already taken," she says with a smile, but I hear the irritation in her voice.
"Oh really, hm...There's a little problem with that though, I really hate to take no for an answer," He grins. Mal finally quits the charade and glares at him.
"Leave me alone, Jake. I have better things to do," She snaps but avoids his eyes when he leans closer.
"No can do babe, you're not getting away that easy. Just say 'yes' and maybe I'll reconsider,'' He grins triumphantly at the look of disgust Mal gives him. That's it, I'm gonna wipe that stupid grin off his stupid face.
I pick the gum from my mouth and press it to the heel of my palm, then I walk over to him and slam it at the back of his head. His head slams into Malory's locker and both his arms fall away and reach for his head. Mal quickly scrambles to my side. He groans in pain. It's either he didn't have his balance under check and he really wasn't expecting that or I might have hit harder than I planned. Either way, I don't feel a flutter of regret.
He turns back to glare at Malory but I obstruct his view by standing right in front of her, so he instantly shifts his glare to me. I glare back. harder. I don't intend to back down easily. His eyes widen in shock.
"Georgia?" He asks in disbelief. I roll my eyes.
"Hayston," I reply, signaling that he isn't allowed to call me by anything other than my last name. I nonchalantly unwrap another gum from my pocket, peppermint this time, and toss it in my mouth.
"And FYI, that's going to be impossible to remove without shaving your head," I say, referring to the gum I slammed at the back of his head. I hear Malory giggle behind me and I smirk satisfactorily.
"What was that for?, I was fucking asking her out!" He exclaims like he was right and I just assaulted him. I snort and scowl at him.
"What part of she's taken did you not get?, Apparently, 'you don't take no for an answer'. It's no wonder why girls despise you Jake," I sneer his name like it's poison. He clenches his fists at my words and I glare at him, silently willing him to try what he is thinking.
He probably doesn't know he's dead meat if Tony Pitcher finds out about this. Tony is Malory's Boyfriend, he's in the soccer team as the goalkeeper, and he is definitely not the kind of guy you want to be flirting with his girlfriend.
I'm able to stare down at Jake because I'm tall. Not too tall, but taller than most girls in Fulton High, and some of the boys too. I'm 5'10. Yes, that tall. I'm unperturbed by my height and find it advantageous in cases like this, where I have to look threatening to arseholes like Jake.
"You are so lucky I don't hit girls Hayston," He says probably meaning it as a threat. If I wasn't so pissed, I would've doubled over in laughter. I roll my eyes and cross my arms.
"First off, Fence..." I decide to call him by his last name because his first name is starting to piss me off.
"...boy or girl, you don't stand a chance against me and secondly, you surely don't want the soccer team finding out about this, you have no idea what deep shit you've shoved yourself into, so I would advice you scram." My voice is calm but tense with anger, my british accent flares out and I don't even bother covering it. I may not have sounded completely menacing with the accent, but I'm sure I made my point. I've lived in the USA for a very long time, much longer than I have lived in the UK, which is where I was born. But my accent never left. I'm not exactly desperate for it to leave, it's a part of me too. I can manage to pull off sounding american when I'm composed, but when I'm pissed, It's hard to keep my composure under check.
I continue to stare coldly at Jack, daring him to speak another word. He throws me a venomous glare then storms off.
Unsurprisingly, I'm greeted with a crushing hug the second I turn around. I smile genuinely and wrap my arms around her sleek frame.
"I swear you are the bestest bestie a girl could ever ask for," She says with a beaming smile, I laugh at her choice of words.
"Oh you know I'll always be there for you, I'm your boo and you're my bae," I tease. She bursts into laughter.
"How come I don't get to be the boo?" She asks feigning hurt. It makes her look so adorable that I laugh.
"Simple. I'm the tougher one," I say matter-of- factly then link my arm with hers.
"Now let's go, we don't wanna be late," We head to class while humming Meghan Trainor's '3am'.
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