1: The week kind of starts on Sunday

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I once read an article which said people thrived on gossip, hence, making it an indispensable part of life. Back then, I didn't think much of it. But now, watching the students mumbling amongst themselves between glances at their phones, I realized those words were nothing but the truth.

“And right in front of everyone, he said he was no longer interested in her, and that having sex with her was like a chore. You should have seen her face; she looked like she wanted to cry and disappear at the same time. It was pretty hard to watch.”

The last part made me chuckle inwardly as I stared at the girl beside me. Only Shay would find something pretty hard to watch and yet devour the entire video multiple times in order to catch all the details. But that was just Shay for you.

Shay Callahan – my number one BFF, or as I'd like to call her, ‘my ride or die bitch.’ We'd been friends since forever, well, basically since we were seven. Still, I was pretty sure it'd be almost impossible to recall any memories from my childhood of which she wasn't a part of. 

The first time we met, she pointed out how our teacher seemed to have a third boob. After that, I was never able to look at Mrs. Greenbaum without taking note of her apparent ‘third boob.’

Her love for details had not waned overtime. If you saw a pretty dress, Shay saw a nice dress which looked like what a retired headmistress would wear. If you saw killer shoes, Shay saw shoes which weren't exactly bad, but just too tacky. If trendy and stylish ever needed a definition, then Shay was it. So, when it came to style, the both of us pretty much set the trends around here.

All of that ever-detailed nature of hers was housed in a stunning black girl of 5'8. With smooth dark skin the color of melted honey, bold eyes, and curly black hair, Shay was a natural head turner.

Now though, she was still quite immersed in our school's latest trending topic – the Eva Daniels public breakup video. 

“I don't get why she wanted to cry though, ‘cause I would be pretty happy if I were in her place. We all know Ryder McCarter has the lamest jokes – at least, she wouldn't have to fake laughs anymore,” I quipped, leaving Shay chuckling.

However, the throaty sounds were soon cut short by another voice. “Don't ask me why, but I want to bury myself in a pit of despair and never rise again.”

We didn't need to look beside us to know who just joined us – Beck Lee. And no, it was not a short form for Rebecca, but rather a short for Beckham. Her mom was so sure she'd be having a boy when she was pregnant, and had even planned to name ‘him’ after David Beckham. But she got a girl instead and decided: “fuck it, I'm gonna name her Beckham anyway.”

And now, that's Beck. Just as her jet-black hair contrasted starkly with her fair skin, her cute, Asian, doll-like features contrasted starkly with her personality.

Honestly, in a clique like ours, Beck provided just about the right amount of normal. And by normal, I didn't mean the sweet, studious girl. I meant more of the gothic one in the quad; even her clothes were mostly dark colored. But besides that, everything with her was pretty normal. Well, that's if you ignored her usual weird and dark comments, and her intense love for horror flicks.

When we first met, she told us that our janitor was a vampire, and that we needed to prepare ourselves to stop him from taking our blood. Being the seven-year-olds we were, we believed her. Because come on, what else could explain the paleness of the man, and the fact that he always stayed in school till the night time?

Back then, we always carried small pieces of wood which Beck gave to us, saying it was oak wood – the only thing which could destroy the vampire. Of course, it was actually just pieces of wood which she picked up from the woodshop down her street.

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