Lucas
Leaning back in my bed, I watch as Scarlett runs around my room trying to get herself ready for class. She looks like a mad woman, trying to brush her teeth while trying to get dressed and do her hair. Scarlett has a toothbrush in her mouth as she struggles to pull her jeans over her ass. Her foot gets caught in one of the holes of her ripped jeans, and she falls flat on her ass, foot still tangled in the material. Feeling her frustration growing I try to stifle my laugh, but I fail miserably when I see her losing the fight with her jeans.
"Lucddanjnfsknk." She yells at me with her toothbrush still in her mouth as she lays there trying to pull her jeans on. Scarlett looks as if she has rabies as her toothpaste foams down her mouth.
"Um, what? I don't speak really rabid animal." I laugh at her. Scarlett's so adorable when she's a mess. I could watch her struggle all day and be the happiest man alive. This is slightly better than basketball, but not as good as sex.
"I said 'Just don't sit there! Fucking help me! You got me in this situation!" She has a point. This is partially my fault. Last night she stayed up to the ass crack of dawn writing a paper for one of her classes. She looked so exhausted last night, and this morning when her alarm went off, she looked like an angel sleeping, so I let her sleep in. I thought she would have been more appreciative, but when she woke up ten minutes ago, she was pissed.
I get off the bed, pick her up from the floor, and help her get her pants on and over her ass.
"You have a little something right...here." I motion to her entire face before she gives me the finger. I slap her ass as she takes off to my bathroom.
I place all of Scarlett's papers and heavy ass planner into her bag. Scarlett is extremely organized when it comes to her school work. I've never met someone who was so dedicated to school before. She's barely had any time to rest the last week, with her still trying to get caught up from her rehab stint. Her stress is starting to make me stressed. I'm going to talk to my dad about what strings he can pull so that Scarlett doesn't have to work so hard to get her degree.
"A ella le gusta la gasolina (Dame más gasolina), Cómo le encanta la gasolina (Dame más gasolina)."
'Gasolina' starts playing from in my bed and just as I find Scarlett's phone, the call is missed. 'Gasolina' starts playing again. Angel is calling her. I roll my eyes. What could he possibly want at 11 am on a Friday? He never knows when to leave her alone.
"Is that my phone? Can you answer that for me?" Scarlett yells over running water.
Angel is Scarlett's best friend from Connecticut who absolutely hates me for no logical reason, which is fine by me because the feeling's mutual. I know that he, along with Ricki, tries to get in Scarlett's head about my intentions with her. To say that it pisses me off is an understatement. They're supposed to be her friends, but they don't want to see her happy. I'm trying to figure out if it has something to do with their jealousy, my race, or the fact that I come from money. I'm sure that it's a combination of the three though.
"Feliz Cumpleanos mi amor- what the fuck? Why are you answering her phone?" Angel barks through the screen when he realizes I'm not my girlfriend, "Give her the fucking phone gringo."
"Scarlett, my girlfriend, is busy right now. I'll tell her that you called."
"Just give Scarlett, my best friend, who I've known longer, so that girlfriend shit does nothing, her phone."
"She can't come to the phone right now. She's a bit sore from last night, and her voice is probably still hoarse from screaming out my name last night when I was blowing her back out." It's a lie, but I know that it'll piss him off. "But like I said I'll tell her you called." I hang up on him, not in the mood to continue entertaining his dumb ass.
