All Bets Are Off

Chapter Seven - Ella Fordman & Phoenix Adams: The Polar Opposites

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~Chapter Seven - Ella Fordman & Phoenix Adams: The Polar Opposites~

Phoenix’s POV –

 

              “And so she was like, ‘Yes, I know, Twyla, but you need to go from the double backflip to the grand jete.’ And I was just like…” Twyla chattered on, and I found myself wondering whether or not banging my head against the table and giving myself a concussion would be enough to make me forget about the mind-numbing conversation I’d suddenly found myself trapped in.

            How did I find myself here? I mean, there were at least two hundred and fifty girls at school, and though I had picked the hottest cheerleader on the team, it was becoming increasingly apparent that she had less than one brain cell, and was the most monotonous girl I’d ever met in my life. I briefly wondered if I pulled out my novel and started reading whether or not she’d find that rude, or if she just wouldn’t notice and would continue to talk about nude lipstick—whatever the hell that was—and peach-colored nail polish. I was wasting quality reading time here.

            I’d really only picked Twyla with the express intention of making Ella jealous that I’d bagged such an attractive girl, only to find her retaliating by going out with Hayden Lewis, one of the most popular guys at school. Not that I cared who she dated, or anything, but she kinda just made the whole impressive factor of going out with Twyla Hale dim slightly. And I was stuck in a stuffy restaurant; listening to a girl talk about fashion whilst eating the most unattractive salad dish I’d ever seen in my life.  Don’t worry, she also counted the calories, too, and apparently this marks off her night for calories, so it was, and I quote, ‘Like, totally perfect.’ Aw, geez.

            “You know what, this has been great and all,” I told her, effectively cutting her off midsentence. I think she might’ve been talking about the latest episode of some show that focused on a vampire love triangle, but I don’t know. “But I actually just remembered that I have to go, uh, feed my iguana,” I lied, and cringed. An iguana? Really, Phoenix. Because that’s a popular pet.

            She blinked, revealing eye shadow that had been caked on to the extreme, making it clump on her eyelid unattractively. “Oh, uh, okay,” she answered unsurely. “Well, I guess we can go.”

            She took my hand brazenly as we exited the hot restaurant—which was apparently one of her favorites—and we started into the cool night air and towards my truck. I opened the door for her, and, once she was safely secured and buckled up inside, shut it and walked to my side of the car. After taking a couple of deep breaths and steeling myself for more talking in her high-pitched, nasally voice, I opened the door and got into the cab of the truck. Then I shut the door, stuck the key into the ignition, and brought the truck grumbling into life.

            I peeled out of the lot, and started out onto the crowded street. I rubbed my eyes from where a headache had begun to form and throb in my temples. Man, Twyla was exhausting, and we hadn’t even done anything.