Motorcycle Girl

Chapter 17: Feeling Used

Chapter 17: Feeling Used

"So that's her?" Peyton hisses when Odette went to the bathroom.

"Stop." I say.

"Is it?" Julian asks. "Because she's really hot bro, I bet she's great in bed."

"Julian, you're seventeen." I snap.

"We just want to know if that's the girl you like." Dad says. "So come on, is it?"

"Yes." I huff.

"Well ask her out." Julian says, confused.

"No." I say.

"Pussy." Harper says, putting her hands around her mouth.

"Yeah, I mean fuck, the guy at the mall has more balls than you do." Mason says.

I open my mouth to snap, but Odette comes out of the bathroom and we immediately fall silent.

She looks around as the quiet apartment. Normally she wouldn't say anything, but this time she does.

"You guys were talking about me." She says.

I open my mouth to tell her she's wrong, but Peyton speaks up.

"Correct." she says.

"About me and Nathan?" He inquires.

"Yes." Julian smirks at me. Odette just looks at me and I look at her, cringing.

"I have a nosy family."

"So do I." She says.

"Oh Odeletta, sweetie, you should invite your family for dinner!" Mom says, her face riddled in hope.

My family loves people, I'm sure they would get on great with her family.

"Um..." she hesitates and then looks at me.

"You can invite them." I nod.

"Okay, I will call my Dad." She stands up and goes outside, shutting the door behind her.

The moment the door clicks, Harper speaks up.

"Stop being a little pussy and go outside and ask her out."

"You won't. That guy had more guts than you!" Mason snaps.

"You don't do it, you little bitch." Julian says.

"Whatever, fuck all of you, you think I won't do it?"

I stand up and slip outside, shutting the front door behind me. She looks at me with raised eyebrows and then continues the conversation with her family. She's talking completely in French.

"D'accord, je t'aime Papa, au revoir." She listens for a moment and then hangs up, looking at me expectantly. "Yes?" She asks.

"Um..." I bite my lip. God, I'm so fucking anxious. "You know when I kissed you in Victoria's Secret?" I ask. She nods. "Did it make you mad?"

"No." She frowns. "I did not expect it, but it did not make me mad."

I nod slowly.

"I did it because that creepy guy that tried to ask you out was staring at you, and um...well, when you were crouched down your thong was sticking out of your jeans, and he wouldn't look away." I cringe.

She laughs softly.

"What is American word for protective over one's property?"

I frown.