Climax King

•2.5•

"How about the movies?" I ask Finn as we walk hand in hand down the streets of the South Side. Call me what you want, but it was better to keep things low for a while and I don't exactly think the North Side is entirely 'low.'

"Making out in the back row is definitely a maybe. How about we drive to the North Side? You have more appeals than the South. Everything is so classy with their overpriced champagne and weird dresses that fit their bodies like fucking doctor gloves."

I groan, falling to his side. Along with Orie and Ken, I'd been keeping my little hidden agenda from Finn as well. It was in both our interests all things considered.

"Ooh! I know! We go to the beach tomorrow!" I squeal, jumping in front of him effortlessly which gains me a few stares in the process. Sorry I don't meet your snooty rich money demands? I'm a hypocrite. I'd look at someone strangely too. Maybe. They all have more money than me so I'm clearly being insecure.

"But that's tomorrow, baby," Finn sighs, taking my other hand in his as I pull him, "What are we going to do today?"

I bite my lower lip as I think, still guiding him. I hope he stops me before I run into the middle of traffic. That'd be a change of events. 'North Side Girl Gets Hit By Million Dollar Limousine. Sources Say She Is In Critical Condition.' I can just see the headlines now as we speak.

That thought alone makes me stop in my tracks as I play the view of Finn in that lovely turn of events. Can I just cockily say, I look good flying over the hood of a limo? Maybe I should change majors after all...

I smirk at him, not wanting to display too much PDA because even I'm not all too keen on that even if I want to shove it in everyone's faces that Finn Quinton, quarterback, sexy ass man, literal king of sex, chose me over Georgie Adams. I deserve a medal, truly.

"Well, Huckleberry, I can think of many other ideas for the day."

He holds nothing back as he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me to his side. "Oh yeah? What might that be?"

I bite my lip seductively and I feel my eyebrows raise. "The Notebook and some Cookies and Cream ice cream with of course, chocolate syrup," I announce all too happily because my mouth is simply salivating at the idea.

He groans, pushing me away playfully. "Way to lead a guy on, Mean Mena. You're really living up to your name."

I shrug my shoulders as I lead him to the nearest grocery store considering this plan has been formulating for quite some time and it is always good to know where the ice cream is. Always, I tell you. Harry friggin Potter always.

"You too, Huckleberry. Although I'm not quite sure what exactly that name means yet, but I'll figure it out."

•———•

After purchasing overpriced ice cream, and a lot of other sundae topping in the suggestion of Finn Quinton, we were now sitting on his couch waiting for the movie to start.

"What if I like spill chocolate on your couch? How expensive was this?"

He clears his throat, looking at the white sofa, "$14,000 but don't worry, it wouldn't be the first time it's been stained," he winks, making me truly uncomfortable to he completely honest.

I clear my throat, concentrating on the screen as the opening begins. But Finn truly knew me better than I think even I knew as he paused the movie, causing me to look at him.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, his hand placing onto my knee.

I sigh, setting my unfinished but very close to finished bowl of ice cream onto the coffee table. "I know that whatever happened before me is none of my business, like at all. Or even when we were broken up but I can't help but wonder, h-how many girls have you slept with in this apartment? I mean, don't take it the wrong way, Finn, but I just want to know or maybe I don't, it's stupid," I ramble on in a rush because the question was floating around in my little head.