I quickly glance her way. What is she doing here?
"So? Why didn't you call me back, Harry?" Denise, the girl, asks again, jutting her hip out and placing a hand on it. Her posse of followers, the people that I like to call who just follow her around and in her footsteps, do the same. There are two of them, whose names I believe to be Sarah and Alyssa.
"I lost your number," Harry says, smoothly lying.
"Are you serious?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm serious," he says. "I went to talk to someone but when I came back I couldn't find it."
Sh scoffs. "Well here," Denise says, rolling her eyes and quickly writing something down and handing Harry a slip of paper. "Text me when you get home."
"I have a girlfriend," Harry says straightforwardly in a "duh" tone, refusing to take the paper and keeping his arms tightly crossed.
"Oh, this little tramp?" She asks, finally glancing towards my way.
"Excuse me, I am not a tramp," I interject. "You, however, are." I cross my arms.
"And how am I one?" She asks.
"You dress like you're a stripper. Also don't be a hoe and jump from guy to guy who obviously have girlfriends."
She laughs. "I am not a hoe, bitch. When I'm done with this conversation, I'll have Harry by my side with a snap of my fingers."
"And how will you do that?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. "By being the stupid hoe you are?"
She scoffs. "You little—"
Harry cuts her off. "Don't talk to my girlfriend that way."
"But Harryyy! She's being so mean to me!" She whines, clinging to his arm.
"Just go, Denise," he says sternly. "You're not welcome here anymore. Just shut up and leave my girlfriend and me alone."
"But Har—"
"I said go," Harry says again.
"Ugh, fine, whatever!" She exclaims. "I never even liked you in the first place. You aren't even that good-looking, so what do I have to lose?" She cackles, her posse laughing along with her.
"Bye, you little bitch," Denise says to me, smirking while waving and walking off. I roll my eyes.
"Hoe," I mutter underneath my breath. As she walks by, I push her slightly. She makes it all dramatic by falling into one of her friends.
"Why you—" she starts, getting up with help from Sarah.
I smirk. "Next time don't wear 6-inch heels, okay?"
I walk away from her with Harry. I hear her shouting many profanities about and to me.
"Cal, don't let her get to you," Harry says comfortingly, wrapping an arm around me and rubbing my arm.
"I know, I'm okay," I say. "It's quite amusing though, seeing her get all worked up. It's just that she makes me so mad sometimes. Like seriously? Why can't she just stop being a hoe?"
Harry laughs. "I don't know," he says.
"I'm sorry, I feel so mean to Denise. But it's all true though," I point out. "She is a hoe if you think about it."
He laughs again. "I kind of like this side of you. Ranting about people just to let your anger off. And using bad words because you never use bad words."
"Oh my god, Harry. No, just no," I say, laughing. "It just lets steam off. It's better than physically doing stuff to hurt things."
"True, true," he replies. "But still. It's just so cute when you do it because you're just a small little chipmunk who randomly squeaks out bad words when she's angry." He pinches one of my cheeks.
