hould I answer it? I kept asking myself that question. Maybe he had an explanation. Although there was no explanation for defrauding a girl. The left side of my brain was shouting at me to answer the phone, bitch. The right side was saying throw the phone down and run like hell. It was like there was an angel and a devil on my shoulders, spoiling the the epaulettes of my top. Before I could mediate, it stopped ringing and I sighed. I couldn't continue to avoid him. We were going to talk at some point. But that point was too soon.
Mason had said he lived just a few blocks away. I walked through the adjacency, which I never took time to do. I lived in a pretty ordinary neighborhood, with flowers and bushes and the old man that comes outside in the mornings with his robe on to retrieve his mail. I passed Vickey's house. I longed to hike up the steep steps to open the door, cry while stuffing my mouth with Doritos with her—Cool Ranch to be exact—and stalk the guys she'd think would be exalted for a rebound. I couldn't do that, distinctly because she was the cause I was in the situation.
Vickey was the only person that remembered the real me. From back in middle school. We used to have a special connection, but now we were farther apart. What would happen if the old man was on one of his many business trips and I shifted into a coma or suffering state? Vickey wouldn't be there. She'd be off smooching it up with Jon. I would die.
I thought back to when I introduced Jon to Vickey. We were in the middle of a makeout session in the foreroom when Vickey waltzed in saying her mom needed coffee grounds. She saw us and almost cried. I acquainted them and it didn't seem as if they shared an immediate attraction. How would they have had the time to abound a secret relationship? It made zero sense.
I made it to Mason's address, and gasped. His house was around the size of my own. Our houses were different styles. Mine was more modern and magnificent and his was kind of... average family won the lottery. If his house was that large, most likely there was a large populace of people in the home. I groaned. More people to get in the way of my plan.
I lazily walked across the front yard to the large double doors and knocked on one of the double doors. It swung open, a beautiful woman with cropped brown hair and a pretty face appearing in the doorway, a bright smile on her face. "You must be Ashley!" She spoke with a light southern accent. She must've been Mason's mother. So that's where he got half of his hotness.
"Yes I am." I grinned at her as she opened one of the let me in. "I'm here to see Mason."
She nodded briskly. "I'm his mom, Ms. Richards. But you can call me Janine. You're a pretty girl!" She lowered her voice. "The pretty ones don't often come around for Mase, mostly because of his last—"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Mason saltated down the main steps and landed directly in front of his mother. He glared at her for a second, her smiling as if she didn't say anything, and then turned to me. "My room," He nodded his head back up the stairs.
I turned back to Ms. Richards. "It was nice meeting you. Maybe we could get together sometime and talk about what Mase lacks in the female department." She smiled at me and assented, then stepped off towards the kitchen.
I orbited back around to see Mason narrowing his eyes at me. Teehee.
I followed him upstairs to his bedroom. The dark blue walls signatured his black and blue ansu bed that sat in the corner. A large trophy case was installed in the corner, holding many academic trophies and medals. His room wasn't as messy as a typical teenage guy's bedroom. It was quite neat, acquiring only a single t-shirt suspended from the dresser drawer. I walked over and sat on his bed. Mason sat on the small leather ottoman in the corner. "You have a big idea better than mine? I'd like to hear it."
Here it goes, I thought. He either agreed with me, or refused to comply, leaving me to live out the rest of my high school life in shame and disgrace.
I placed my right hand out to the side of me. "This is me."
I placed my left hand to the other side of me. "This is you."
I calmly brought my hands together and clasped them. I looked over to him, to see if he got it.
A disgusted and slightly confused look was evident on his face. "You want us to..?" Oh my god. Hell to the god freaking no.
Although it would be nice.
"No! No, no, no. I meant you and I are going to pretend-date! Not that. No."
I took another deep breathe.
"We act like we don't mind that our exes are dating each other. The school catches the drift and we slowly float back to the top. Well, I would. I'd drop you off wherever you belong, kay?" I didn't say the last part. Even though I would do it.
He chuckled. Chuckling was not good. "What makes you think I would do that with you?"
"Let's hear your plan," I said, getting comfortable on his bed. How else would I be glam again? Well, I already was glam, but I'd have been even more glamorous if he just went with it.
"Toilet paper their houses." Toilet paper. How callow. And hilarious.
I bursted into a fit of laughter, which I rarely did because my life wasn't funny in the least, and fell off of his bed. By the time I came to, my sides ached and my vision was blurred as a result of my crying.
I pictured Mason throwing a toilet paper roll at Vickey's house. "Take that!" he would say.
"That's so crude!" I finally orated.
"Is it that bad?" He started to laugh a little, too.
"The last time I toilet paper'd a house, I was thirteen."
"Woah. Ashley Scott toilet paper'd a house?" I did not mean for that to slip.
"Who hasn't?" I said, covering myself up. "Anyway, do we have a plan?"
He was silent for a moment. Then he started to nod his head. "I believe we do."
Mason was a good boy. He needed somebody to turn him bad. I was that somebody.
♦ ♦ ♦
For the rest of the time I stayed at Mason's home, we discussed our scheme and strategy. Every once in a while, his mother would come in unannounced and see if we needed anything. She probably thought I'd corrupt her son or something.
It was about seven p.m when I left, the earlier light and airy propinquity was now dark and eery. Now that's why I didn't take strolls. As I neared my house, my eyes concieved a familiar pair of Air Jordans standing on the porch. It was Jon.
Shit, I thought. I quietly backed away from the front gate, anticipating I wouldn't be heard or seen. I was so close to the broken street lamp that didn't give off much light when I heard him say my name.
"Ashley, hey Ash!"
Jon jogged over to me and layed a hand on my shoulder.
He did not just touch me. It was about to get on and poppin' out there.
I jerked my shoulder away. "You do not have the right to adjoin me at all," I said, backing away again. He looked the same as always, t-shirt and jeans with his favorite shoes.
"Don't you think it's time we talk about this?" Uh, no thank you, I thought. I would rather have licked an old man's armpit.
"There's nothing to talk about." He cheated, I've moved on. Well, I would've moved on after my 'arrangement' had served its purpose.
"You know there is." Stubborn child.
"I know you're with Vickey. I'm so far past the point of caring what you guys do anymore. Could you just leave me alone?" Honestly, I wouldn't give a crap if they got married, went off to the caribbean for their honeymoon, and came back with two kids named Dick and Assford. Despite the fact it would sicken me knowing those children were of relation to me.
"You sure you're okay?" I mean whatever I say, cretin.
"I'm sure. I'm going in my house now." I brushed past him and traipsed down the sidewalk to the front gate.
"I'll see you at school?" he called after me.
I unenthusiastically waved my hand without turning around and continued the trek up to my front door.
When this thing works out, I thought, I wouldn't have to worry about Jon and Vickey or Mason anymore. I can just enjoy my last year of high school in peace and high authority.
A/N: i hate it when chapters of other stories have more thoughts than dialogue. im like ENOUGH WITH THIS I WANT TO SEE SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING!!!
its even here, so YAHOO