Best Friend's Revenge

8. Fictional Boyfriends Are So Much Better than Real Ones

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XOXO,

LOSALINI

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Growing up, I always wondered whether Mrs Blackstone had a superpower or if she just had a way of making everyone feel like they had no other choice but to do what she wanted them to do.

Sometimes I believed more in the former; I was just a kid after all, and liked to believe that people like Supergirl existed. This of course led to me eating whatever she gave me, especially those broccoli that tasted like garbage in a vegetable. All because I thought that since she ate it, it must've been the source of her powers, so I ate it too, wanting to be just like her.

When people idolized celebrities like Vanessa Hudgens or Ashley Tisdale, I idolized Mrs Blackstone, the woman that to me was better than any superhero the writers of DC Comics or Marvel could ever come up with.

With that belief, that I always had no choice in the matter when it came to Mrs Blackstone, I always went along with whatever she wanted, no questions asked, even when she suggested I go as the Wicked Witch of the East to the Halloween party in middle school because it was something no one else would think to wear. Where tens of my schoolmates dressed up as princesses or fairies, she said that I would be the unique one.

She was right about that though. I was unique. And ridiculed for the next few years that I went to the hell that was middle school. I'd been dubbed the Wicked Witch ever since that fateful night, at least until sophomore year, when people liked me for the simple fact that I was one of the three sophomores that had made it into the junior varsity team.

Despite that mishap, I still, despite my better judgement and Taylor's behest, continued to listen to everything Mrs Blackstone asked of me.

But sometime since they left I didn't want to anymore.

Actually, correction, ever since she made that ludicrous offer yesterday, I didn't want to listen to whatever she wanted me to do.

I had better things to do than spend time at a barbie at the Blackstones' new house.

My new paperback of the second installment in the Red Queen, Glass Sword by Victoria Aveyard and a whole season of Happyland was ideally what I considered to be a better way of spending my Saturday rather than spending it locked in a house with someone that now considered me as worse than an enemy.

In fact, I believed that Taylor and I were now in this stage of our relationship where if I was locked up in a room with him and Kim Jong Un, the leader of North Korea, and he had a gun with only two bullets, he'd shoot me, if he had no choice, twice.

Okay, fine. Taylor wasn't that vindictive. But, still, he wouldn't necessarily be offering a hand to me if I tripped and fell flat on my face.

All in all, I had no desire of spending my Saturday at the Blackstones' home. I had as much of a desire for it as I did at the prospect of finishing up an entire jar of vegemite.

That is, none at all.

"Don't tell me you're thinking about tomorrow?" Alyson asked as soon as we sat down in Biology class for sixth period.

"Tomorrow?" I asked her, confused as to what she meant. As far as I remembered, I hadn't told her about the hijacking of my Saturday date with the characters in the book.

She nodded. "Yeah, or did you forget about your six month anniversary with Nate?" Then her face soured. "Or what would have been if he'd only get it in his pants."