They don't play to win. They play to hurt.
Sterling Academy's irresistible reputation all came crashing down last year when a list of the 'top thirty girls too...' had been anonymously published.
Now recovering from the pits of hell the media dragge...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
THE RAIN POURS on my window shields as I drive down to the movies where I'm meeting Eva and Ajay for an overdue hangout — the theatres are re-running Scream and since my friends are absolutely crazy they thought it would be fun watching it mid-day.
I curse to myself when a red light stops me. I'm already running late because my oh-so-wonderful dog, Blanco, thought it would be a good day to piss on me after I'd already gotten ready.
I had headed back into the shower, where it felt like I was burning my skin off with how hard I'd scrubbed.
"Incoming call from Amber, Incoming call from Amber," my phone repeats out loud in its robotic voice.
I look down at my phone and slide accept, brows furrowing together in confusion at why Amber would be calling me out everyone. I switch her over to Bluetooth before looking up and realising the light has turned green, I press my foot on the accelerator and begin to drive.
"Amber?"
"Yes, it's me. I wouldn't be calling you if I didn't have to," I hum at that and swallow down the desire to hang up on her. "Like if I was stuck in the middle of the apocalypse I would probably let the zombies tear my favourite dress off of me before I called you. You get that right? Because—"
"Yes, I get it, this is incredibly low of you for calling me." I mean it as a joke but knowing Amber, I'd bet on my best comic books that she's being dead serious. She makes an acknowledging clicking sound with the roof of her mouth. I'm not sure she understood my sarcasm.
"Right, like me shopping at Waterfront — oh God forbid." She actually sounds horrified at the thought. Waterfront is this one boutique at the Courtemanche Mall that's really popular among the Sterling students.
"What's wrong with Waterfront?" I ask, I've got some good pieces from there.
"Other than countless allegations for being problematic, the fact you shop there."
"And what about you and Gucci?" I fire back.
Amber laughs — like cackles. "Darling, Gucci is what poor people think rich people wear."
"You're making it really hard to want to help you." I fire back, rolling my eyes. Does she always think she's just better than everyone in a room? Does she not realise how irritatingly entitled she is?
"Good thing you're not selfish and this isn't for only me."
"What do you need?" I ask, staring at the road blankly, confused as to what she could possibly need from me. I would say 'want' but she's made it abundantly clear she wouldn't have called me had she not been in a dire situation.
"Be over in half an hour." Her tone is clipped, providing no room for me to disagree.
"Why not now?" I'm just trying to get on her nerves now, petty I know. I'm only even agreeing because despite her bitchiness in her phrasing I'm sure Amber wouldn't be calling me over for childs play.
