Cole: Isaac stop fuckin maggers upstairs
"I really need to leave this group," I tell Zoey, sighing at my screen, and remembering Zeke's in it too.
"Then leave?"
"I've already tried. Cole just keeps adding me back." I sit my phone down on the couch armrest and look back at the TV screen, where Clueless is currently playing. It has to be my favourite movie of all time, after X-Men, Avengers, Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner...
Okay I have a lot of favourite movies of all time.
My phone starts buzzing again.
Isaac: we're not fuckig
Asshole: I am going to kill you
Cole: fuckig
Cole changed the group name to fuckig.
My eyes focus on Zeke's contact name on my phone. Asshole. He's such an asshole. He's an asshole for making me like him. He's just messing with my head.
I'm not even mad about everything he said to me today – I'm hurt. I just want to believe that it wasn't true, or that it was just a nightmare – that he still wants me in his life.
I decide to leave the group – or try to. Me staring at the word asshole for five minutes straight probably isn't a good thing.
As soon as my phone hits the couch, it buzzes again.
Cole added you to the group: fuckig.
I groan and throw my phone down again.
"I'll tell him to stop," Zoey says and picks up her phone. After she clicks Cole's contact, she calls his number and puts it on speakerphone.
"Wassup, baby," Cole's voice comes through the receiver.
"Stop adding Marnie back to that stupid group," she says back, sternly.
"Why? It's lit."
"Cole," she says slowly, the way a mother would when scolding her child.
"But Zoeeeee," he whines.
"You better stop."
"Wanna know something funny?" He says, changing the subject.
"No."
"Isaac and Maggie are fucking and the whole house is 'bouta fall apart."
"And why hasn't Zeke ripped his dick off yet?"
"I'm sitting on him," he explains.
My cheeks feel hot at the mention of him. He's there, on the other side of the call. I could easily just ask about what he said today, and ask for an explanation. But my brain runs over the million reasons why I shouldn't.
"What part of him?" Zoey narrows her eyes although he can't see her.
"His stomach. Don't worry, baby, our relationship isn't that sexual yet."
YOU ARE READING
Babysitting The Bad Boy
Teen Fiction{#1 in teenagers} {#2 in fiction} {#2 in popular} "You better not tell anyone about this." "Aw why not? I'm sure your fandom of desperate girls would love to know that their precious prince charming needs a babysitter." I smile innocently back at...
