: Chapter 5
Bestfriends Shouldn’t Know How You Taste
Her brows raise as her friend goes silent beside her. Then a nasty smile makes its way to her lips, the sight unsettling. âWell then now you know how embarrassing you are to the boys.â 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 wasnât 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.
âThe only one who should be embarrassed right now is you. Arenât 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?â 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. âHow do you know about that?â She stumbles over her words.
Now it was my turn to pick at my chipped nails. I took pleasure knowing that my comeback wasnât so bad after all. But maybe that was just the anger of seeing Blake kiss Stacy.
âWeâre best friends, remember? They tell me everything.â I smirked smugly then strutted up to her. âI know every embarrassing thing you did to gain their attention Lucy, donât make me remind you .â
With one final glance at the two girls I walked out of the bathroom with my head held high. But I didnât feel confident, in fact I felt the opposite. This wasnât 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. âWhatâs wrong?â
Hearing Ryanâs words has Blake removing his attention from his very annoyed girlfriend. His blue eyes study my face. I remove my eyes away from him, afraid that heâll see what Iâve been hiding for years.
I turn to Ryan. âNothingâs wrong.â I mumble, feeling nervous being the center of attention. I turn to face the table, noticing they already ordered. I reach for my fries and push it in my mouth.
âYou look like you were crying little Ash, whatâs wrong?â Ryan questions again, this time seeming to be impatient. I swallowed roughly, not wanting to answer the question. I couldnât exactly say that I was crying because Blake was kissing Stacy. So I settled for a lie, a stupid one at that.
âItâs nothing to be worried about. Some girl was taking a dump in the bathroom, the smell kinda made my eyes water, thatâs all.â I rush out, still not lifting my head to gauge their reaction.â
The smell of poop made your eyes water? Really Ashley, thatâs the best you could come up with?
Itâs silent for a few seconds before Ryan burst out into loud laughter. The sound had everyone currently inside the restaurant stop what theyâre doing to see what had made him laugh so. I squirmed feeling their scrutinizing eyes on me.
âYou.â Ryan gasps out, tears rolling out from the corner of his eyes. âYou- cried because someone shit smelled bad?â Ryan laughed. His voice was loud enough to make everyone hear.
An embarrassed blush crawls up my face and settles on my cheeks. I really shouldâve left my hair down today. âRyan shut up.â I hissed reaching for the banana and chocolate milkshake. I gulped some and almost choked when he said those next words.
âWas it her shit that smelled so bad in there?â He questions, pointing at Lucy who was just getting out of the bathroom followed by her blonde friend. They both froze hearing Ryanâs loud question. It was like he was doing it on purpose.
Does he want them to kill me the next time Iâm alone with them? I was thankful for my snarky mouth this once. Whoâs to say I wouldnât get slapped in the face the next time?
I turned to Blake feeling 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 laughter. He reluctantly nods when he sees my discomfort from the attention.
âRyan man, leave it be. Youâre embarrassing Ley.â He chuckles. Stacy stiffen upon hearing the nickname he had given me. I wouldnât admit it out loud but I secretly loved it, though I act annoyed when he called me it.
âWhy do you call her Ley?â She asks Blake, her darkened angry eyes burning a hole through my head. I shifted on the chair uncomfortably and sipped more of the milkshake.
Blake laughs pulling her closer. A jolt of jealousy has me removing my eyes away from the two. âDonât be jealous Stacy, itâs just a nickname and Iâve told you that many times.â
I could hear her protest but zoned her out. I didnât need to hear her annoying voice more 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 that she was the one to stop his player ways.
Sheâd been the new girl and every guy wanted her except for Ryan. And to this day I still didnât have a clue as to why he resented her. Stacy had instantly caught Blakeâs attention the moment she walked in those halls of Western High. And she hated me the moment she set her eyes on my 5â2 self.
âSo weâre going to the party tonight.â Ryan states.
I raise a brow drinking the last bit of my milkshake. âTomorrow is a school day Ryan.â I stated. I clearly didnât get why teenagers enjoy getting drunk, itâs not a pleasing sight to see.
He rolls his eyes in exaggeration. âOh come on Ashley, live a little.â
âMy dad wouldnât allow it.â I shrugged . I actually loved that dad wouldnât allow me to, itâs a good excuse. I could enjoy my time reading.
âSneak out.â He suggested.
I laugh, one empty of humor. â Yeah no.â
âBut we need a designated driver.â He pouts.
âMy hand hurts, I canât drive.â I say dryly and push another fry in my mouth.
âWho cares if she comes, the girl enjoys her boring life. She canât handle a party.â 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, couldnât I?
âYou know what, Iâm coming.â I snap, fixing my glasses. Was this considered peer pressure?