Mark My Words

1 | The Betting Pool

Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.

The betting pool for Rosalie Mason and Samuel Griffin was up to $354.56 and climbing by the time senior year kicked off. 

Sami was, perhaps, the single most sought-after fella in their grade, but due to the bets, and the obvious uncertainty about A) his sexuality and B) his relationship status, not many girls (or guys, for that matter) had the guts to say so.

Rosalie saw how people could swing one way or the other if they observed the Mason-Griffin Shenanigans from afar. Rosalie was undecided considering she was raised hand-in-hand with the guy—they even spent their diaper days together. It was hard to look at Sami's face and forget what he looked like in his mother's makeup and a tutu (debatably Rosalie's fault, but she was the only witness).

It was difficult for people to believe that they were only friends, and that if they were just friends, she'd be condemned as an idiot for not taking that chance. Her soccer team gave up long ago trying to badger her into asking about Sami in that sort of way. At the start of freshmen year, the amount of phone numbers she threw in the trash was ridiculous. As if she would encourage their behavior by passing them on to Sami. He was just too nice of a guy to do the throwing-away himself.

Sami didn't contribute much to the conversation of their betting pool, mostly because there were other bets to be concerned about, like the ones he actually contributed to. His avid interest in school gossip was what connected him and Rosalie's co-captain of the soccer team, Ray Hartley, together. His gossiping streak ended at the line involving the bets on the two of them, and started with everything to do with the art department.

Rosalie's mind, on the other hand, had everything to do with soccer as she considered her workout clothes strewn over her bed, and her school uniform beside it.

It was around that time in the morning when Rosalie's ringtone went off. It buzzed from where it sat framed by her cat's twitching tail. Khoshekh flicked his tail at Rosalie as she lifted the phone to see the smiling face on her screen—the one and only Sami Griffin.

"You've got a ride to school, right? Your mom didn't forget? I've been worrying about it all night 'cause I know we talked about it and—" Sami started in a panic as Rosalie switched him to speaker and dropped the phone on the bed beside Khoshekh.

Rosalie scratched the white patch on Khoshekh's otherwise black forehead. The back of her hand was scribbled in black ink—notes to remember her schedule for that day. She used it to tug the pair of navy pants out from beneath Khoshkeh, thoroughly frazzling him in the process. He scurried away, tail flicking furiously as she held them up to her waist and frowned. Despite her reservations about the size, she yanked them up by the belt loops.

"Yeah, I heard my mom go down the hall earlier. I'm sure she remembered," Rosalie reassured him.

"That doesn't sound like you know 100% is a thing that happened and is happening."

"You're being ridiculous. Didn't you say you wanted to sleep in today anyway?" she said, sighing at the sight of her pants. They stopped at her ass, and so she stood in the mirror, arms hanging, pouting at the sight.

"Yeah, but I lost a lot of sleep just being anxious so that's where I'm at right now," he said. "Still in no shape to deal with Whitney, though..."

Rosalie sighed again, with enough gusto to prompt Sami to ask what was wrong.

"I think I did too many squats at camp," she whined, turning around. She twisted her head back to scowl at the obvious sight of her Wonder Woman boy shorts.