Chapter Six
Tyler
Kelly, one of the four hottest cheerleaders on the squad, takes a seat in my lap. Austin is next to me with his hands full of Rachel. She’s what I like to call a “cheer-bunny.” Not only is she a hot cheerleader, but she only dates football players. There are seven players on the team who haven’t yet tapped that.
Well, make that six, because it looks like Austin is about to head upstairs with her. Kelly’s hand skims down my chest, drawing my gaze back to her. She giggles at something funny.
She sways a bit and I roll my eyes. “Babe. You’re gorgeous and all, but I think you should go lie down in the spare room.”
She licks her lips but it looks overly exaggerated. I pick her up and carry her up the stairs. She giggles as the hoots and hollers reach us. Freaking rosebuds. I deposit her in the guestroom and say, “Don’t open this door for anyone. Got me?”
Kelly looks confused, and I sigh. “I’m locking you in here so no one tries messing with you. You’re too drunk. I won’t put it past some of these guys to take advantage of you. Sleep it off.”
“But … ”
Yeah, I don’t sleep with girls so wasted they’re practically comatose. I turn away from her after she starts peeling off her clothes. I open the door and flip the lock then shut her in the room.
This party is a bust. I don’t feel like returning to the drunks downstairs, so I head to my room. As I take a seat in my gaming chair in front of my 70” flat screen, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I’m half tempted to ignore it since it’s probably one of the dipshits downstairs.
With a sigh, I pull out my phone and read a text message from some random number.
Random number: u sboulo knaw Adam is o 5 tinimg jerk & o should probobiy stop sendlng him naked pLcs ot ursit.
Um, what the flying hell? Drunk people should not be allowed around phones. I stare at the message then start laughing like a toddler at the word “naked.” So, the gist of the message is Adam, the jerk, should stop sending naked pics of himself to himself. Maybe. Wait; that makes no sense. Of course, drunk people rarely make sense. Let’s try this again. I read it a few more times. We have a few Adams on our football team. Maybe it was meant for one of those guys?
Me, Larken, and Kent have done a lot of dumb shit for laughs, but sending junk pics to people on my team isn’t one of them. Whoever’s doing this must be one dumb son of a bitch.
I could be nice and say, “Hey, you’ve got the wrong person.” But I’m dying to get a rise out of someone tonight. Sure, it’s an asshole move on my part. But at this point, I really don’t care.
Me: Can’t help if ur man wants to see all these goods.
Random number: Did u knaw he has a GF?
Me: Not sure wtf that was but if you’re asking if I knew he was with someone I did. And I don’t really give a shit.
Random number: You sound like a real bitch! You better hope I never see you in person.
Me: Whoa! I’m just having fun here. No need for all that. Let’s keep it classy.
Random Number: Classy? You’re the 1 sending naked pics to someone else’s man.
Oh shit, this is just too freaking funny.
Me: Well it’s been fun. Gonna go find someone to hookup with, and btw I’m a guy, and your boyfriend sounds like a real prick.
Random number: Wait, what?
Me: Not a chick.
Random number: But you have girl parts. I saw the pics.
I laugh so hard my abs ache. I haven’t had a laugh like this in ages.
Me: Wrong number.
Random number: Y didn’t u say something sooner?
I really can’t argue. But hell, whoever this is, totally entertained me.
Me: Just having a little fun.
Part of me felt like I knew her, or at least wanted to. Hell, if she’s looking for revenge sex to get back at Adam, I’m down. Teach that prick a lesson. Greater good and all. But I’ll draw the line if it could cause a shit ton of problems on our football team.
Me: Sorry. Hope u find whoever u were looking for …
Random Number: I’m Faye btw
Me: Cool. Maybe try again when ur sober tho.
Faye: I’m not drunk!!!
Me: Yeah. OK. Well. Ur texts are a little drunk sounding.
Faye: F U! I’m dyslexic
Ah shit! Way to step in it, Tyler.
Me: Sorry.
Faye: Whatever. I hope my misery is making ur night.
Me: I really am sorry. For what it’s worth the guy seems like a total tool.
Faye: He’s been cheating on me.
Me: Sucks. How did u find out?
Why the hell am I asking this Faye chick this? I should stop texting her and go back to the party. I don’t need to get involved in someone else’s drama. For all I know she’s probably crazy.
Faye: They were texting each other while we were supposed 2 b on a date.
Aw. Jeez what an idiot. Okay, even if this Faye chick is possibly batshit crazy, he’s a dumbass. I’m not the cheating type. But if I were, I’d be smart enough not to text the other girl while on a date with my girlfriend.
Me: Yeah, he’s a moron. Ur better off.
Faye: Thanks.
Me: I have 5% battery left. I hope u tell that bitch off. And kick ur ex in the sack. He deserves it.
Faye: Thanks. Gonna hang out with my sis & eat chocolate.
Me: Chocolate and hanging with fam is always a good choice.
Faye: G’Nite.
Me: U 2.
“What’s up, Ty? You’re not even making the easy shots,” Jared says as he smacks me on the back.
This is by far the worst game of pool I’ve ever played in my entire life. I keep thinking about Faye. I woke up this morning and reread her texts. Then I went searching for her in the yearbook. But she wasn’t in there. She must be new, or maybe she goes to Blackhawk, our rival school.
“Dude. What’s wrong with you?” Jared asks breaking my concentration.
“I got a weird text last night. Anyway, I decided to mess with the person. Turns out the girl’s boyfriend cheated on her. She texted me by accident, thinking I was the girl he was cheating with.”
“Let me guess. You made her cry by pretending to be screwing her boyfriend or something.”
“Kind of. I feel bad about it.”
Jared shakes his head. “Did you apologize?”
“Yes. I just feel bad still. I mean I hope she finds the person she needs to.”
Jared gives me a look. “Wait. Do you know the person who texted you?”
I shrug. “She said her name’s Faye. But I didn’t find anyone named Faye in the yearbook.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Dude. You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. Why?”
“Uh you probably didn’t find a Faye because you’re probably talking to some thirty-year-old.”
No way! “Ah shit,” I say. He could be right. It shouldn’t matter since we’re never going to talk again. But she didn’t seem like she was older than me.
We shoot a few more balls in, and Mark enters my game room. Jared shoots him a glare then huffs, “I, uh … gotta get back home.”
Mark swaps glances at both of us then he settles on Jared. “I just got here. Are you serious, bro?”
Jared drops his stare to the floor. “Yeah, sorry. You know how my dad is with the training and stuff. Gotta bounce.” He steps past Mark and throws out a closed fist to me. I tap it with my own.
“See ya,” I say.
As soon as Jared leaves, Mark snaps, “You believe him? He’s still pissed at me.”
“Well, he didn’t tell me about it. Trouble in paradise?” I joke.
Mark shoves me. “Stop saying shit like that.”
I chuckle. “Fine.”
Mark grabs a pool stick and starts hitting balls into the pockets. “I think it had to do with me telling Austin I was going to ask Juliet Valentine out.”
I stop smirking at him. “Dude. That’s not cool. You know Jared has been wanting her since elementary school. Seriously?” What in the hell is wrong with him? No wonder why Jared went all Dr. Freeze as soon as Mark showed up.
Mark shrugs. “What? I like her. He’s had plenty of chances to make his move. Are we all supposed to sit back and not ask out certain people because Mr. All-American might like them? Everyone kisses his ass. I’m freaking fed up with it.”
Part of me gets his point. Jared has had plenty of time to grow a pair and ask Juliet out. At the same time, there are rules, and this is definitely a bro-code violation. “Dude, you’re a jackass.” I pull out my phone, scroll through random messages, and land on my conversation with Faye. Okay, yes, I saved her name in my phone. Don’t ask me why but I want an unbiased opinion on breaking total bro-code.
Me: Hey you. I hope you’re doing better. Also I wanted to apologize again for being a jerk.
Faye: Hi. It’s ok. Thx 4 the apology again tho.
Me: Few questions. U’r not 30 r u?
Faye: Nope. 16. U?
Me: Same. Hey, if 1 of ur friends had a crush on some1 would u ask them out?
Faye: That’s really random. But no. That’s wrong. It’s simple friend code policy. You know …
Me: Exactly. You can call me R.
Faye: Really? R. That doesn’t sound totally disturbing at all.
Me: Hey, U could be one of my crazy fans. I need to keep some of this protected.
I look up from my phone. “Faye says you’re in the wrong, dude.”
“Who the hell is Faye?”
I shrug. “Some girl. But she says you’re in the wrong, man.”
Mark drops his pool stick. “You know what, I thought you were going to be on my side on this. But you and your girl can kiss my ass. I’m out.”
As soon as he leaves, I glance down at my phone.
Me: So … My friend left. Know what that means?
Faye: …
Me: U have 2 entertain me. Did u kick ur ex in the balls?
Faye: LOL. No. I have to break up with him still.
Me: Hold up! U caught the dude cheating and u’r still 2gether? That’s all kinds of messed up Faye.
Faye: Kind of. I mean I never said Hey you’re a dillhole and we’re done. I’m doing it today.
Me: U should have done it last night.
Why am I getting worked up over this? It’s not like we’re about to get into a relationship or anything. But I hate when girls do this. They purposely drag out the breakup for dumb reasons.
Before I can express my opinion, she tells me she has to go do chores. Which leaves me bored, so I head upstairs. One look around, and I groan. The whole house looks like a bomb went off. Shit. I need to clean this up before the ‘rents come home.
Usually for this kind of cleaning, I call Mary Ella, our housekeeper, but she’s on vacation with the ‘rents. This leaves me with two choices: call a maid service or just do it myself. I’ve got nothing better to do, so I head to the pantry, grab a box of trash bags, and get to work.
I start at the very top; it’s not as trashed as the other floors, but that’s because I keep these areas off limits. Once I’m there though I immediately return downstairs for some extra supplies, one of them would be gloves. There are a few used items in the bedrooms that there is no way in hell I’m touching them with my bare hands. Trash cans, people! We have trash cans all over this monstrous house. Yet some jackass has to leave crap on the floor or on my parents’ bed. Yeah, that would have been a great lecture.
I strip beds, wash everything, and make my way downstairs. Five trash bags later, I’ve got the whole house cleared of trash and vacuumed, and the floors mopped. It all gleams and I almost can’t believe I’m the one who did this.
Snatching up the trash bags, I head outside to dispose of them. Before I even make it to the cans, I grumble. The front lawn is completely jacked up. Seriously, I want to know what dipshit thinks, “Hey, here’s a buttload of toilet paper, let’s go cover the trees and lawn with it.” Then think this is super cool. It’s not. In fact, it’s pretty stupid. Now, thanks to that brilliant jackass, I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the lawn. Freaking awesome!