Hey Mrs. Angel (j.o)

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tw: rawr rawr jenna

Squealing breaks were heard moments before the whining of the manual yellow door. A cluster of students began shuffling to the aisle and gripping the seats, hurriedly single-filing it off the school bus. Among these students were you and your best friend, Jaron Angel —

"Hey!" The bus driver shouted with his hand on the door handle, "Tell Miss Ortega I'm free tomorrow night!"

You were on the sidewalk waiting for your best friend whom was exiting the bus rolling his hazel eyes and clenching his sharp jaw. The dark-haired boy spoke over his shoulder, remarking, "Her last name is Angel, and she's fucking married."

The driver smacked his teeth, "Ahhh, kid. When Asher acts like a husband, I'll address your mom as such until then you let her know I'm free!"

Jaron shook his head standing beside you. The driver nudged your direction, "Put in a word if he doesn't Y/N." The driver shut the bus and drove off. Your best friend watched the bus traverse the neighborhood with irritation swelling his eyes.

— the son of Asher Angel and Jenna Ortega.

"I don't understand why people don't respect my parents marriage."

"No offense Ronnie, but half the world thinks your dad is cheating with Jules LeBlanc." You stated holding your backpack straps, beginning your stroll.

Your best friend walked on your side, defending, "That half must be full of idiots then because those are just rumors."

"Okay, well the other half thinks your mom is hot." You shrugged and Jaron shoved you lightly.

You stumbled a bit while laughing, "I'm speaking for the people."

"I'm convinced you're speaking for yourself."

You hummed, "Just a little bit."

Jaron shook his head, spinning his heel and walking backwards. "Seriously Y/N, why don't people respect their marriage? Am I missing something?"

"Yeah... the rumor about your dad cheating."

Jaron groaned, "There's just no way! I mean you've seen my parents, been around them — you know first hand that they're like Morticia and Gomez! It's obnoxious sometimes."

You nodded, "True but they could be pretending. Your parents are actors after all."

Jaron chewed his cheek, spinning back around, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess the question is why pretend then?"

"It's easier to stay together and fake it, especially since divorcing each other isn't an easy option for rich people. It would be expensive as hell."

Jaron's eyes watched a car pass by, responding, "That's true, my Uncle Johnny is still financially recovering from the divorce with Amber."

You and Jaron stopped before his house. He checked the mailbox, while you fought a laugh, "Whoa, whoa, Johnny Depp is broke?"

"I wouldn't say broke," Jaron shuffled the mail, leading you to his front door, "But he's one hundred and fifty million dollars less than what google says. He often asks my mom for money."

Stunned, you blinked in disbelief, "That's fucking wild, but it aids my point. If your dad is cheating and your mom knows, maybe they don't want to divorce because it'll be hard financially."

Jaron unlocked his front door, holding the door open for you, sighing, "I guess."

You entered his house. Quickly, you were sliding out of your sneakers and putting them on the large rack by the door. He locked the door and did the same as you. Jaron set the mail on a console and ran to the stairs, moving up the flight with haste. You were on his tail.

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