Chapter 10 - Cheating Bitch Isn't My Type

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Chapter 10 - Cheating Bitch Isn't My Type

"Damn, that took long."

I sighed in pure exhaustion, looking at my now Bieber-free bedroom. I had called the girls, asking them to help me clean everything up, but the only person that was free was Marissa so we had to tidy it by ourselves.

"How long", she took a deep breath, "did it take them...to do... all of this." Her voice came out ragged and her breaths were more like struggled gasps. She was leaning against the wall, bent down with her hands on her knees and her stomach heaved up and down with each breath.

I laughed, "Are you seriously that tired? All we did is peel posters off of my wall and change the furniture ."

She looked up and glared at me with a frown, "Says the one who spent most of the time planning her revenge rather than helping!"

"Come on, you idiot. Let's get some coffee." I jumped off the bed and grabbed my Denim jacket, running down the stairs with Marissa following closely behind.

My hair flew into my face as soon as we got outside. New York is the kind of place where it is mega windy yet the sun is also out, shining brightly.

"I am not going in there!" Marissa stopped abruptly, staring - no, glaring - at the Starbucks window. I followed her eyes and was about to ask what was wrong, but then I spotted her problem.

Connor.

With a girl.

At the table which was slap-bang in the middle of the café.

I looked back at Marissa who was still frozen, not tearing her eyes away from Connor.

"Do you...?" I was extremely cautious of my words.

"Want to go somewhere else?" She shook her head, suddenly rushing towards the door, about to push it open.

"Wait!" I held onto her wrist before she did anything stupid. Her eyes widened further, and I could feel her pain as Connor threw his arm over the girl's shoulder and pulled her into his side. She turned to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I used to think that people in movies exaggerated their asses off, throwing hysterical fits when they saw their ex-boyfriend with another girl. But now, seeing him with that bitch, I think that those scenes are the understatements of a lifetime." Her voice shook and mid-way through her statement, she looked back at Connor with nothing but hate.

I watched as the girl, whose back was turned towards us, kissed Connor's cheek and stood up, clutching onto her bright pink purse. When she turned around, I recognised her as the girl at the club who I danced against. She strutted to the back of the room, probably to the restroom.

"I'm not exactly the best matchmaker there is, but I can definitely tell you that clingy-ass slutty bitch over there sure as hell doesn't deserve him."

Marissa let out a little laugh, smiling at me in gratitude.

I returned it. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you guys break up?" Marissa stepped away from the door, leaning against the café wall. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, blinking the tears away.

"Forget I even asked that." I quickly added after realising that it was a stupid question.

"No it's fine. It's just that your one of the very few people that give a single shit about my side of the story."

I waited for her to continue.

"Two years ago, Connor threw a party at his house. I had a few too many drinks and got drunk and started dancing with a random guy. I got dizzy after a while and went upstairs to Connor's bedroom to rest a little. Just as I got into his bed, the door flung open and the guy that I had danced with, stormed into the room angry."

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