i'm so excited

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c h a p t e r 1

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c h a p t e r 1

I'd gotten her name from a guy at my school who sold people's phone numbers to any person who was seeking out a number. The guy with the phone numbers' name was, Beck Yarns, but everyone either called him Becky or just Yarns. Initially I had asked him for Abi Dearest's number, but he gave me one look that told me everything I already needed to know.

"That'll will cost you a good 100, my friend," He says, chewing on what looked to be apparently sunflower seeds as I see him spit out the shell. I give him a look that must've made him feel a bit antsy cuz the next you think you know, he his putting his hands up and getting defensive about it.

"Hey dude," he says, "it's not my fault that she's on top of the food chain." I give Yarns a look like he needs to be on some meds. Making out the whole student body on a food chain. If so where am I on the list?

"I know that it'd take a lot for you to get this chick's number in real life," he says simply, but really he is starting to piss me off. "So," he finishes, "that's why you're gonna have to pay a lot for her fucking number."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I say, hastily. It isn't everyday you skip lunch so you can negotiate with some fucking pizza faced guy to give you a girl's number. Am I starting to regret skipping lunch over this asswipe?... Mmm, maybe just a little.

"Can you hold it for a month?" I ask him.

He shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Don't be a dick. I need a for sure answer."

"Well, I can't give you a for sure answer, if I don't have for sure money."

"Okay, be a dick then. I'll have your money. Just hold the number."

Yarns shrugs, and I walk off before I say something that will be the reason for why I don't get Abi Dearest's number.

👓👓👓

I walk into my mom's room. It is 12:00 am, and I am literally tip toeing to her dresser to retrieve her bag. Should I feel bad about snagging a couple bucks from my mom's wallet? Yeah, maybe I should...but I care more about getting Abi Dearests' number at the moment.

For a minute, finally reaching her dresser, my hand on the bag, I don't hear my mom's snoring. I look to the platform bed and see that she is still sprawled on the bed in her polka dot pajamas, and smeared make up. When her body shifts, her face is turned toward the dresser.

The air is full of suspense.

I expect for her eyes to snap open, but no, instead she let's out an even louder snore, and is back to snoring like she was doing.

I open her bag, and pick out the wallet. I open the wallet and fish out two twenties, and a ten.

The fifty dollars will only cover half the cost, but I am not hopeless yet. I do have a secret stash under my bed where I keep about $55. That is all from mowing the lawns over the summer for my elder neighbors, and fixing computers for people who either got a virus on their computer or didn't know a damn thing about how a computer works.

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