Hot Friend

171 7 2

by AnotherLazyTeen

by AnotherLazyTeen

Seeing as Mackenzie is my best friend, I of course talked to her all night about the new sexy teacher’s assistant, and how we totally had a moment at the end of class. She, of course, laughed at me, and insisted we go shopping for sexy clothes. I groaned, as I’d rather slam my fingers in a car door, but if it meant I would catch Patrick’s eye, I’d do it.

We didn’t buy anything to revealing (nothing that Stacy would wear) but we managed to find some pencil skirts and leggings before Mackenzie pressured me into buying a lacey pink lingerie set. I giggled like an idiot as I bought it. I refused to buy any shirts, because 1. I happen to like my band shirts and 2. I’d prefer if I didn’t have to show my cleavage to get a guy’s attention. Anyways, I showed up to class the next day looking hot as hell, I even got a glare from the devil spawn, which made me very happy. Patrick, apparently, was running late, so I had to stare at the back of Letterman’s head for half an hour whilst he droned on about some complicated formula before Patrick finally walked his fine ass into the room. Honestly, I had to remind myself how to breathe. He shot Stacy a smile, but didn’t even glance in my direction. He seemed to be avoiding looking at me. Was I dressed too provocatively? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I slumped down in my seat, tugging at the bottom of my skirt so it covered more of my legs. He sat at the front of the room, coffee in his hand, adjusting his glasses every now and then.

He had to hand out papers again, but he didn’t even go near me, he gave Stacy two papers and told her to give one to me. But, being the absolute bitch she is, she crumpled the paper lightly before handing it to me. I took in a deep breath, smoothing out the paper as much as I could before writing Stacy’s name on it, standing up, snatching her paper from her, and giving her the crumpled one. Fuck her. Fuck her and her stupid fucking hair extensions and trashy ass fucking manicures. She stared at me with a blank look, huffed, the proceeded to smooth out the paper as I sat down. “Jävla slyna.” I hissed, and Patrick finally looked at me. I pursed my lips, but he just smiled, shook his head, and looked back over at Letterman. I blushed. His smile was contagious, apparently, because I could feel myself smiling without meaning to.

Class ended five minutes earlier than usual, giving Patrick and I more time to talk. “Patr- I mean, Mr. Stump? Could I talk to you for a moment?” I said sweetly, watching Letterman as he packed up his belongings. Patrick’s shoulders tensed as he turned around, then relaxed when he looked at me.

“Oh, hello Ev- I mean, Ms. Mason,” he mocked me, and then whispered, “Sorry, I thought you were Stacy.” Ouch. Talk about worst-insult ever.

“Why would you think that?” I asked, scowling. He blew out a breath, opening his mouth to speak, but then he was cut off by someone walking into the room.

“Hey, Pat, let’s go.” The person said, a goofy smile on his face. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were talking to someone. I’m Pete, and you are…?” He cocked his head to the side, and Patrick rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m, uh, Evangeline. But, friends and family call me Evee.” He held out his hand for me to shake, and I shook it, then he lifted it up to his mouth and left a small kiss on the back of my hand. I looked down, blushing, and Patrick cleared his throat. I looked over at him, and he was glaring at Pete. Why? Was he jealous? Ohmigod, Patrick was totally jealous. I had to hold my breath to keep myself from squealing like a seventh grader.

“Here,” Patrick said, jotting down something on a piece of paper and handing it to me, “Just, call me later, and I’ll tell you about it. Okay?” Holy fuck I had just gotten the sex god’s number. Fuck fuckiddy fuck fucking hell. Instead of jumping up and down, I nodded, folding the paper and putting it in my bag.

“Kön GUD.” I muttered, forgetting that Patrick somehow understood Swedish. He raised his eyebrows, smirking at me. Pete had left the room and was standing outside the door, making this situation 9875x more awkward.

“Hmm? I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly, did you, Evee, just call me, Patrick, a sex god?” He teased, and I just turned away, blushing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Stump,” I muttered, laughing at myself, “I’ll be sure to call you tonight.” And then I strutted my sassy self out of that room, biting my lip to keep myself from smiling.