Wilcrest Girls Academy is an all-girls private school - or it was, until Jack Moody entered the halls.
8:35 the first bell rings.
8:47 Molly Clark stumbles in late to class
9:00 Jack Moody enters the room
9:01 Molly falls head over heels
Molly's ne...
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♫ Girl Next Door - Trixie Mattel
Sunken into my plush gray sectional, I pop another cheese ball into my mouth.
"You better work," Naila repeats in her best RuPaul impersonation as the new queens begin to file in on the television before us.
A plethora of chips, candy, and popcorn is strewn onto the ottoman in front of us. Jade's head rests on a pillow, her dark hair flooding the surface.
Ding Dong.
The sound of my doorbell brings us all to a jump.
"You order pizza?" Jade asks with hope in her voice.
"Uh—no," I mumble before springing to my feet. It's much better than pizza.
Dashing to my front door, I quickly wipe my hands onto my leggings, eliminating any evidence of overprocessed orange cheese dust from my fingers.
Swinging open the heavy oak, I reveal Jack Moody's long body pressed against the beige siding. He's sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. The unusual cozy attire makes me feel a bit woozy; I grab onto the door frame to steady myself.
"Hey, Molly," he says with his hands stuffed into his pockets.
"You came!" I boast, reaching out a hand to grip onto his soft gray sleeve before pulling him inside. "We're all in here, watching."
Following behind me, I lead him towards my living room to join the others. A fluffy geometric rug placed under the hefty sectional, centering the room. And a giant abstract painting of what looks to be two flamingos hangs above the flat screen television.
With a big smile I call out to my old friends, "Hey, look who came by to join us."
Craning their necks, Naila's eyes widen as Jade scowls. Nervous, my small friend glances to Jade who slowly shakes her head causing Naila to sulk into the oversized cushion.
I roll my eyes—they're clearly still hung up on Tina Parker's gossip. Can't they just be happy for me?
With no reply, Jack shifts awkwardly behind the couch. Waving an arm at him I say, "Come, sit."
Plopping down at my usual spot, I pat the gray fabric beside me. He squeezes past our pile of snacks, stepping over Naila's socked feet before sitting next to me.
He's so close, his thigh brushes against mine. At the touch, I feel like I could throw up—I won't. But, I could.
The rising heat in my body makes me uncomfortable, so I jump forward grabbing an armful of junk food. "Want something?" I ask him offering up my selection.
He shakes his dark head of hair. "I'm okay."
Dropping the pile of food into my lap, I slump into the couch cushion. Only the sounds of queens reading each other to filth fills the awkward air.
