This chapter is dedicated to @xxLiciaPinkxx because she's amazing and edited this chapter. Go check her out! Her book As I am deserves so much more attention than it gets! 

I hope you enjoy reading this chapter! :)

Chapter three - Party Pooper

~*~

"Whoa!" Lana yelps out of nowhere.

"What? What? What?" I ask in a squeaky voice.

"Don't look, but Dean Collier is walking our way."

"That's it? Dean Collier is walking in our direction?" Annoyed by her interrupting my eating, I pick up my sandwich again. The one I spend five valuable minutes of wasted sleep on.

"No, no, you don't get it," she continues, "he really is coming at-" and then she was cut off by the sound of an angel's voice.

"Hey." I turn around as quick as the lightening to see a row of bright teeth directed toward us.

I could feel Lana's brain coming up with wild conspiracies.

"Uh, hi." I smile back since my friend has lost the ability to speak.

I don't get what he is doing at our lunch table, I mean that's kind of social suicide.

"What's up?" Lana finds her voice back. I wish she didn't, regarding that she is trying to make it sound like she is 'one of the guys' asking her 'dude' how he's been doing.

"You dropped this," he says, placing my phone on the table. I look down at it in surprise as he turns around. Before returning to the cool half of the cafeteria, he gives us a last look over his shoulder. "Oh, nice background picture, by the way."

Oh no.

No no no no no no.

I slap my forehead. Lana jumps at my phone like a puma. On my lock screen is a picture of both of us taken in the summer, looking ridiculously ugly. We regarded that image as one of the most horrific picture ever taken - like, ever. It had been fun then, in the moment, right now it is the single most embarrasing thing.

"Loren Poole, I am so going to kill you," she says, a threat woven in her voice. "You just ruined all my chances of having beautiful blue-eyed babies with Dean Collier!"

"Sorry, Llama."

"You were lucky to have a lock on your phone, otherwise he could've blackmailed us for the rest of our lives."

Yeah, glad I did. I normally never had a lock. My life is not that interesting nor is there anyone who'd like to look in my phone. The recent water incident however, made me change my mind.

Thinking back about our first conversation ever with god himself, I actually am pretty proud of myself that I remained that calm. Normally, my voice gets all high-pitched and stuff. I am glad I dared to speak up against boys more than girls.

Girls and Geoffrey are just so much meaner than guys.

But Dean Collier was a little more special.

In freshman year, Lana and I both had a major crush on him. A few months later it got out that he slept with Latoya and we didn't want him to be our future husband anymore.

That doesn't change the fact that we like to spend our afternoons drooling over him.

Now he's one of the jocks, player of the football team, admired by lots of girls, admirer of miniskirts and long legged blondes.

Before you could even blink, lunch is over and we head out to our next class, history. Yuck.

After the welcome-back-to-school-history-is-still-the-same speech, class rolls around rather quickly.

Our teacher turns out to be pretty cool. He isn't old, like late twenties or early thirties, and definitely not ugly. A white button down shirt adorns his body that he pairs with a blue tie, beige pants, and big, ray-ban glasses which gives him a nerdy appearence that is still kind of cute - cute for a teacher.

It is one of the only classes Lana and I share. I can already tell that we are going to spend most of our time drooling over him and making up pretty creepy stories.

After that, our paths split for the rest of the day. I make my way over to my last class of the day: geography.

Right in front of me, I witness Latoya entering the same room I have to be in.

Oh, joy.

Inwardly cursing the school for putting me in the same class as the number one slut, I grab a seat as far away from her as possible - which isn't as far as I would like since I am always right on time. Notice sarcasm, please.

The bright side of all this is that there always is some drama around Latoya. This ensures optimum hilarity to unfold in various classes, mostly between Latoya and other girls who slept with the same guy.

Scanning the room, I spot some other familiar heads I once shared a class with. My eyes first meet Madeline, a nice girl with whom I chatted regularly during geography last year.

The last group of students enter the room and last, but definitely not least, Dean Collier walks in. His enterance causes a wave of whispering throughout most of the female population in this class.

I receive a text from Lana telling me that her class is pretty boring and lacks potential crush material. To add insult to injury, Geoffrey is taking the same class.

Not that it is a problem, since Geoffrey doesn't even know about Lana's existence. Lana on the other hand, already harbours hatred for him from the stories I've told her.

I sent her a text back: code Lazyass and Dreambear, which were code names for Latoya and Dean.

Yeah, we're cool like that.

Madeline carries on a short conversation about the holidays, asking me how mine went. I tell her I had a nice one, leaving out the part about the new-guy-hottie moved who in with me.

It's nuts how everyone already knows about him. I mean, sure, he might be kind of good looking, slightly attractive, and partly a sex god (and yes I know that it all means the same: but damn have you looked at him?), it's creepy how all the students whisper about him. The funny thing is that everyone pretends they know all about him when they don't even know he lives in the same house as I do.

Another thing that is slightly funny is that I don't know anything about him either.

Yes, I know he lives with me and that he likes to get up early to work out. I also happen to know - and experience - that he is incredibly rude and ill-mannered. Apart from those little tibits of information, I know next to nothing about him - he is as much of a stranger to me as he is to anyone else.

My mom tried though, to make us bond. She had sent us both to the supermarket to get some groceries, giving us some extra money to do something together. He took the extra money and left me alone.

I didn't say anything about it, knowing it wouldn't make a single difference. Geoffrey was like a saint to both of them.

I often saw the anger burning in his dad's eyes, yet he never punished him nor gave him a lecture or anything. It's pretty strange.

Once, he was obviously stoned as fuck when he got home. All his father did was sigh. It might be me, but that's not how you treat your son when you find out he uses drugs, right?

"Miss Hernandez, please put your phone away or I'll be forced to take it away."

"But ma'am, it's really important," Latoya says. An obvious excuse since she continues to type.

"What could be so important that you are wasting your geographic education for it?"

I could name a few things. Eating, sleeping, peeing, reading, runni- I think I've made my point.

"My boyfriend says he misses me." Is she seriously going to play the "we're such a happy couple" card?

I fake gag at that, some kind of automatic reaction when I hear disgusting bullshit. Lana and I do it all the time.

Only, no one else is suppose to hear it.

"What was that, Miss Poole?"

Oh, damn.

Latoya turns her head towards me, just like a lot of other students, a wide evil grin present on her face.

"Don't blame her ma'am. She's just jealous that she can't find a boy that's half as hot as mine who likes her."

"Oh yeah, I'm totally jealous of your 'love-filled' relationship." I make air quotes around 'love-filled' to emphasize that I am making a sarcastic remark - some people need reenforcements to truly grasp the meaning.

"Sweetie, green really isn't your color." She smiles, making me want to slap that smile off her face.

"Oh please, you-"

"Ladies, that's enough!" the teacher interrupts. We shut up. Then she continues her lesson after making Latoya put her phone away. Latoya sends me one last glare before turning her head back to the front, with her well-known hair flip all boys seem to fall for.

Okay that's a lie, they all fall for her body.

I hate to admit it, but she has a body to kill for.

She has the right sizes in all the right places. Not too chubby nor too skinny and she knows how to dress perfectly to outline her curves even more.

Although she doesn't deserve all the credit for that, since she has a personal styling assistant.

It's not like she accompanies her every single day, of course, that'd be way over the top. I just heard that her dad hired someone to shop with her and give her all the advice she needed. Or she goes to exclusive boutiques where they give the best advice.

She is enormously spoiled. Her dad is some important man in politics and earns at least forty times as much as the average citizen.

There is nothing wrong with having a lot of money. I am sure her dad works hard to earn it, my parents are the same, but it is wrong to use money to gain an edge. It is even wronger to use the money someone else earned so haphazardly - for the most ridiculously things.

And that's exactly what she does.

From what I've heard, she once failed a class but used some money to buy the teacher over.

When that didn't work, she used her body.

Now do you see why I hate her so much?

To my utter annoyance, she pulls out her phone again. You know when something bothers you so much that unwillingly you start paying attention to it and it bothers you more and more?

Well, that's exactly what is happening. The more I let it occupy my mind, the more I get annoyed, and the more I want to snap her fucking head off.

It's weird because half of our class is texting, even I sent Lana a text earlier, but when she does it, it is the single most annoying activity on Earth. When you hate someone, everything they do is annoying - even breathing.

I don't know what it is about her specifically that made me hate her this much.

Maybe it is the way she heartlessly bullies people, bossing them around, or maybe it is the way she sleeps with every guy she lays her eyes on or maybe it is how she always gets away with things and some people still see her as this beautiful angel when she is quite the opposite. Though the most logical explanation I can find for my hatred for her is that she is Latoya Hernandez.

That's it, no past stories, no rivalry, no jealousy, just her being her.

I was never the kind of girl to hold grudges, nor to hate people I don't know or label someone due to rumors I heard, yet when it comes to her, I do believe everything that's being said about her. It is like she came to this world just so I had someone to channel all my anger onto.

So I did.

Ever since I've known her, I created this inner-hate towards her, despising everything she does. And somehow, I'm glad I did because that made my friendship with Lana what it is now.

Thanks, Latoya, for being a cold hearted bitch.

"Good job, class. You're dismissed." Sounds like music to my ears.

Two minutes before the bell actually rang I am standing in the hallway, completely friendless. Not that I am one of those girls who freaks out whenever they are left alone for one second, but after I stood up to Latoya during class, I am a bit afraid she might come after me to pierce my body on her sharp high heels.

"Loren," a voice calls out to me. I swivel only to find wild blond hair belonging to Cody Howard. "Hey." He smiles, although he pants a little to try and catch his breath before coming to a stop in front of me.

"Wow! You look great." He gives me a quick peck on the cheek before checking out my outfit for today.

"Thanks. You too." I smile, fiddling with the strap of my backpack.

I've known Cody for a little over a year now. I met him at one of the first parties I went to. Back then, I didn't know how far I could go with alcohol. The day after, I knew I went too far.

I'm kind of ashamed of that because Cody is a really nice guy and all, but that night due to my intoxicated state I ended up giving him false hopes by kissing him.

Till this day, Lana still teases me with how crazy she thinks he is about me. Little does she know that every time I speak to him I feel horribly guilty because I never replicate the feelings he has towards him.

I'm not hundred percent sure he likes me, but according to what his friends say, he definitely does.

We never talk about the kiss, nor did he ever try to make a move on me. I think he did try to ask me out sometimes, but always chickened out which I am pretty thankful for because it could make things slightly awkward.

"So what have you been doing all summer?"

"Not much just hanging around and stuff." Oh and my parents got divorced, I haven't seen or heard of my dad in weeks and I was forced to move in with Satan himself. "What about you?"

"Not that much, partied, hung out with some friends, went to visit my family and blah blah blah." He chuckles. I like his smile actually, especially his dimples, that definitely increases his cuteness.

I'm kind of flattered that a cute guy like him shows interest in me.

"Are you going to that party this Saturday?" he continues while we start making our way towards the exit.

"No idea, depends on Lana, I guess."

"Oh, I see, well I think you should come, it'll be amazing, I promise." He gives me one of those heart-melting smiles before making his way over to his car.

"Yo, fatass." I am greeted by a hit on the back of my head as usual.

"Hello to you too, lazy llama."

"Was that Cody; the admirer of the lamest nickname picker in the world?" She winked.

"Nope. Hop on." She does as told. I do the same, after admiring my beautiful blue baby.

"What did he need?" she questions while struggling to wrap her arms around my belly, complaining how fat my backpack is.

"He just wanted to know whether I was going to that party this Saturday." Another smack on the head. "Dude, was that necessary?"

"Saturday was going to be our first sleepover in your new place!"

Another thing that got stolen from me: the ability for Lana to come sleepover almost every weekend. My mom forbids her to come since it would ruin Geoffrey's rest. The new rule only proves that she is stupid and utterly blind since he parties three times a week.

Now that the year has started again, my mom has to go away for a few weeks and his dad hasn't been home that much. This was the perfect opportunity to let her come over to help me out of the miserable situation.

"Well, I never said I was going to the party, dumbass."

"Good, because I'm coming over whether you like it or not."

I make my way out the parking lot. During the entire ride she sings like a retarded fool, complains every five seconds that my hair is in her mouth and that I need to shower.

I pull into the corresponding driveway and park in the garage. The underground parking lot is one of the coolest features about this house. It was huge - a necessity when you have to park two cars and two motorcycles in it.

I parked it in the corner, not wanting Geoffrey to touch my Baby ever again. Last week, when I returned from Dunkin Donuts, I had parked it near the exit, since I had to move again in about an hour. But then Geoffrey came home , claiming that it was in his way, so he put his filthy hands on it to move it.

I'm so thankful it wasn't scratched or else I would have personally chopped his balls of.

"Bitch, this shit is huge!" She hopped off to admire the other motorcycle parked in here.

"Come to momma," she says, ready to get on it.

"Don't freaking touch it!" I yell running over, nearly tackling her. "Woman, are you crazy?"

"What?"

"That is Geoffrey's, you crazy ass. Do you want to get killed or something?"

"Sorry. Man, This guy needs to calm the fuck down if he goes crazy when someone else touches his motorcycle." I nod before reminding myself how I went crazy when I found out he touched mine.

"Come on, show me the rest," she demands before letting herself in.

"So, this is the kitchen." I motion towards the spacious room filled with high-end stainless steel appliances and laminated cabinets and countertops

"No shit. For a second I thought you had a fridge in your bathroom."

I patted her arm. "Don't make fun of me, you wanted me to give you a tour." Already beind tired of the tour, I end it. We lean against the kitchen counter.

"You know," she starts as she grabs an apple out of our fridge and takes a bite, "all those times you were telling how much you despise him," she paused to take another bite, "I never thought he'd be this hot."

I grab her lips, forcing them close. I bend a bit making my eyes level with hers, so she knows I am serious. "Don't fucking say that. Do you want his ego to grow even more?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, although I didn't release her lips from my grip. Of course, I release my hold on her mouth when a trail of saliva made its way to my hand.

"Gross," I hiss.

"I'm sorry, it's just much harder to hate him when you want to run your tongue all the way over his body."

"I'll just ignore that."

"Where is he anyway?" She roams around the living room, admiring all the walls that might as well have been money with the amount of cash used to make the living room such a fancy place.

"No idea, working out or something," I reply, completely not interested in the topic. "Want to see my room?"

I lead her upstairs, straight to my bedroom. I briefly point in the general direction of Geoffrey's room, stressing the fact that she should never, ever, enter that room unless she has a death wish.

I speak from experience, I tried that once. I mean, I was just curious. You can't blame me for that. I wanted to know what was going on in his room or what was so important that nobody was allowed to step one foot in it, not even my mom or his dad.

One day, when I knew he was in the backyard house training his unbelievably big muscles, I snuck into his room. I remember my blood pumping in my veins and my heart pounding so hard I felt as if it would fly out of my body through my mouth.

But of course, guess who showed up? My hand was on the knob, ready to venture into his room, when I sensed his presence - yes, 'sensed'; he was giving off a strong murderous vibe. There he stood at the end of the hall, staring at me like a crazy ass bull ready to charge a red flag.

Guess who was wearing red that day?

Yeah, exactly.

~*~

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