Secondhand Embarrassment

fifteen: she's kinda hot

noah || billy

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"what the hell, noah."

billy storms into the beach house, lightning streaks burning the soles of his leather flip flops. thunder shatters the room as the door slams shut behind his sand marked footsteps. noah barely flinches in his seat.

"i can't believe you deactivated your tinder because of a girl. please tell me you were just lying to save your flabby ass."

"my ass isn't flabby."

"then why are your pants always sagging?"

"shouldn't i be asking you that question?"

"shhh. it's all about you right now, noah."

noah laughs, rolling his eyes toward the back of his head. "so how was oliver's surf shack?"

"god damnit, noah. would you stop trying to change the subject every time we talk about something important?"

"you're not still mad about that time i accidentally caught you mas—"

"we're not gonna talk about that," billy cuts him off immediately, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. "we were talking about your ass."

"since when was my ass important?"

"since lennon probably threatened to set it on fire after you failed to show up."

curiosity swims in noah's eyes. "would she actually say that?"

"duh."

"let me ask this again. are you sure those would be her exact words?"

"no, of course not. she lets you call her lemon for god's sake. what kind of pet name is that? you really are gullible."

"a punny one."

"it's a good thing the lemonade was good otherwise you'd have nothing going for you. your puns are horrible. they're almost as bad as your pickup lines."

"what do you think she's like?"

"she's kinda hot."

noah whacks billy on the back of his head.

"hey! what'd you do that for?"

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