Ashley’s pov
Her brows raise as her friend goes silent beside her. Then a nasty smile makes its way to her lips, the sight unsettling. “Well then now you know how embarrassing you are to the boys.” She said waving her hands off then later picking at her long nails.
I look for a way out, a parting way out that is. I was never one to confront someone, that just wasn’t me. I never had the guts to. I cross my arms and straighten my stance, trying to seem confident even though I was lacking it.
“The only one who should be embarrassed right now is you. Aren’t you the girl who basically threw herself on to Blake last year and tried getting with Ryan a week later? Oh and failed at both?” I jabbed.
What the hell was wrong with me? Since when did I become a bitch? I cringed when the word popped in my head. I hated cursing.
She gasps her face reddening with a faint blush. Shame was written on her face. “How do you know about that?” She stumbles over her words.
Now it was my turn to pick at my chipped nails. I took pleasure knowing that my comeback wasn’t so bad after all. But maybe that was just the anger of seeing Blake kiss Stacy.
“We’re best friends, remember? They tell me everything.” I smirked smugly then strutted up to her. “I know every embarrassing thing you did to gain their attention Lucy, don’t make me remind you .”
With one final glance at the two girls I walked out of the bathroom with my head held high. But I didn’t feel confident, in fact I felt the opposite. This wasn’t the first time this happened to me. It was like a continuous routine.
It felt like my feet weighed a ton as I move toward them, the boys who unknowingly made every girl despise me. I settle down on the chair. Ryan lifts his head from the phone and stares, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
annoyed girlfriend. His blue eyes study my face. I
to Ryan. “Nothing’s wrong.” I mumble, feeling nervous being the center of attention. I turn to
little Ash, what’s wrong?” Ryan questions again, this time seeming to be impatient. I swallowed roughly, not wanting to answer the question. I couldn’t exactly say that I was crying because Blake was kissing
Some girl was taking a dump in the bathroom, the smell kinda made my eyes water, that’s all.”
eyes water? Really Ashley, that’s the best
inside the restaurant stop what they’re doing to see
cried because someone shit smelled bad?” Ryan laughed. His voice was
crawls up my face and settles on my cheeks. I really should’ve left my hair down today. “Ryan shut up.” I hissed
who was just getting out of the bathroom followed by her
next time I’m alone with them? I was thankful for my snarky mouth this once. Who’s to say I wouldn’t get
utterly mortified and pleaded with him using my eyes to tell Ryan to stop. He draws in his bottom lip between his teeth, biting it to suppress his
He chuckles. Stacy stiffen upon hearing the nickname he had given me. I wouldn’t admit it out loud but I secretly loved it, though I act annoyed when he
She asks Blake, her darkened angry eyes burning a hole through my head.
removing my eyes away from the two.
than I should. Blake had been with her for a few months now. After he supposedly stopped sleeping around with countless girls. Some people thought referred to her as his miracle. I admit, it hurt to see
I still didn’t have a clue as to why he resented her. Stacy had instantly caught Blake’s
“So we’re going to the party tonight.” Ryan states.
I raise a brow drinking the last bit of my milkshake. “Tomorrow is a school day Ryan.” I stated. I clearly didn’t get why teenagers enjoy getting drunk, it’s not a pleasing sight to see.
He rolls his eyes in exaggeration. “Oh come on Ashley, live a little.”
“My dad wouldn’t allow it.” I shrugged . I actually loved that dad wouldn’t allow me to, it’s a good excuse. I could enjoy my time reading.
“Sneak out.” He suggested.
I laugh, one empty of humor. ” Yeah no.”
“But we need a designated driver.” He pouts.
“My hand hurts, I can’t drive.” I say dryly and push another fry in my mouth.
“Who cares if she comes, the girl enjoys her boring life. She can’t handle a party.” Stacy declared. I look at her, not liking the way her eyes were mocking. My fist clench on my thigh, hidden by the table. Anger course through my body wanting to show her that I could definitely handle a party. I can, couldn’t I?
“You know what, I’m coming.” I snap, fixing my glasses. Was this considered peer pressure?