51 Shades of Mumu

Chapter 21

    Somehow, the concert managed to go off without a hitch. I played the piano instead of singing––a good thing considering I didn't want to ruin my vocals for kissing Hyundai later––and Ronan even flashed me a smile as she exited the stage.

    Had I done a good thing?

    I believed I had upon seeing Ronan and Chase leave the auditorium together. They were followed by Benny, Faeleb, and Lydia.

    "Hyun, wait up," I said, putting a death grip on my man's supple arm.

    "HEY LOVERS!" Lydia called. "Jesus, everyone's in love; it's so disgusting."

    "Aren't you––" I began.

    "SHUT UP!" Ronan commanded. She widened her eyes at me and then stealthily glanced at Lydia and Faeleb. Apparently, as good as Lydia may have been at communicating and making friends, she was absolutely horrid at flirting. I took the chance to pull my tiny friend aside.

    "You're okay with what happened earlier?"

    She sighed. "Yeah. I mean, I wanted to murder you slowly and painfully at first. But then fucking Eastdingle started talking to me and…he actually made sense. He said that what you did could work in my favor. And, hey, Chase has been talking to me more…"

    "Ronan is one rad hell of a name. Does it mean anything?" The older Gryzbowski chose that exact moment to amble up behind Ronan and grab her shoulders. If he hadn't been a good like three feet taller than her, it might have been a tiny bit cute.

    "It means 'little seal' in Irish," Faeleb piped up, appearing next to Chase. Lydia trailed behind, looking miserable.

    "Babe," Hyundai came to my side, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He pulled me over to a more secluded area by some bushes and slid a hand around my shoulder and down my back. Oh my. Ohmyohmyohmy. The sleepover.

    I tried to push my night's plans to the back of my mind. Now was not the time to worry. I had to focus on Hyundai and the way his salty body fluids were rolling down those gelatinous cheeks; pooling in his peach fuzzy mustache…instead, I could hear the conversations of my friends.

    "So you have to use Ghirardelli?" Faeleb mused. I could picture his pink face lighting up in awe.

    "Yeah," Lydia boasted, "they just aren't the same without it. Trust me. I'm friends with Dominique Ansel. I would know desserts."

    Faeleb made that strange nasally snort-moan-whine noise that he always did when he found something amusing. "Since you're such a pro at life, do you think it would be a good idea to get a tattoo that says swag?"

    Lydia giggled. "ARE YOU INSANE? NO DUDE. JUST NO."

    "You know you'll love it. Don't lie to me Miss Brophy."

    "OKAY, FINE. YOU GOT ME! IT WOULD BE SOOO FUCKING SEXY AND I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO KEEP MY HANDS OFF YOU. Happy?"

    "Exactly the answer I had been looking for."

    Could I puke already? Oh God, had some of Hyundai's sweat just landed in my eye? I rapidly blinked, hoping to amend the situation, but a burning sensation rose up in my pupil, only causing me to look like I was hysterically crying.

    Tears of sweat. Freaking awesome.

    "Hey, Faaaaayleb," suddenly came a voice. I knew that voice! It was Trixie Dhalman. Fake, irritaing Trixie Dhalman.