The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 21

I dry off my lips, and stare into the mirror. No green left, though my lips look unnaturally bright from the rubbing it took to get rid of the green permanent marker.

I know three things.

One, I hate the Ivy League.

Two, I think I kind of really like their hottest member.

Three, the hottest Leaguer's scheming ex-girlfriend framed me and is now awaiting a social death.

I decide to put on a bit of lip gloss - something that I almost never do but I feel like my lips deserve some positive attention today - and run one hand through my wavy dark hair. It's soft but has volume and I smirk as I remember Ellen's second dye job. After my spray paint, she had dyed her hair to a blonde, but she looked somewhat awful, as I had pointed out at every opportunity. She had re-dyed her hair to her natural light-brown colour though her steely gray eyes hadn't lost any of its coldness. Whatever. I can take on this diva easy.

I left the bathroom in search of Grace and Jake. Thank heavens this day is over. I find them waiting for me in the parking lot, Grace in a heated argument with Jake over his car's carburetors which she claimed sucked. Jake was extremely defensive and neither of them paid any attention to them when I came up. I listened in utter boredom as they disputed over different types of cylinders before I cleared my throat.

"Ahem."

"And don't even get me started on your lubrication..."

"Oh because yours is a Mercedes-Benz makes your car better than mine, is that it?"

"No, the fact remains that your quality sucks-"

"AHEM!"

"Now isn't the time, Courtney!" Jake said in an injured tone, "she's insulting the pride and joy of my life-"

"Leave it to a guy to call his car his pride and joy-"

"At least it's a car and not some purse you girls drool over-"

"Um, guys?" I said.

"When have I ever drooled over something as dumb as a purse?"

"Okay, fine, maybe you didn't drool over the purse, I guess it was the salesman SELLING the purse-"

"As if you don't drool over your posters of Pamela Anderson all over your locker-"

"Pamela Anderson? Please. I have a bit more class than THAT-"

"GUYS!" I yelled, and they finally turned to look at me, quite calm.

"Yeah?" they asked simultaneously.

"Would you stop bickering like an old married couple for five minutes and help me?" I expected them to be embarrassed by the 'old married couple' line, but they couldn't have cared less.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" Grace asked innocently.

"Did you finally lose something, like your mind, for example?" Jake asked evilly and Grace laughed. I stared at them, confused. They had been ready to practically rip each other's guts out two seconds ago, and now they're best friends again. I don't understand them sometimes.

"Um, I'll tell you in a more private environment."

Whistling cheerily, Jake circled around to slide into his gorgeous BMW. Grace started for the passenger door, but I grabbed her arm.

"What's going on between you and Jake?" I asked her. She looked at me gleefully.

"Are you jealous Courtney?" she asked incredulously.