Callie Reeves is a perfectionist. She has control over everything from her friends to her grades, the cheerleading squad she captains and anyone inbetween - even when it comes to dating.
After creating a list of rules to keep her no-strings attache...
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"Do you think it's wise to show up?" I wedge the phone between my ear while struggling to pull my hair into a ponytail. "Even though you were warned."
"I was warned not to go in the locker room so I'm not," I finally gather the hair back tight enough without pulling any out accidentally with the cast. "Besides, I need something to focus on, and seeing Faye run my squad into the ground will just add to the motivation."
Vincent scoffs, the sound of Green Day being muffled when he starts my car. He curses under his breath, "Seriously. You could have warned me."
"You're borrowing my car while your bike gets a new gas tank, you have no right to complain." I put my bag on my shoulder, exiting the bathroom and making a quick beeline for the field.
"I'm borrowing your car to have the number traced. You should be thanking me."
I roll my eyes, "Naturally, you would know someone who can do that."
"Yeah but he's a leech and it's a good thing you can afford it," I lock eyes with Phoebe as she exits the locker room, stilling when she sees me. Vincent turns the music off and starts the car. "I'll meet you in the parking lot by four, okay?"
"I'll see you then."
I hang up just as I reach Phoebe who does a quick once over, "You actually turned up."
"Surprised?" I question and she blinks multiple times, giving a fake tight-lipped smile.
"A little," She glances back into the locker room. "You know, this whole thing is getting ridiculous . . . I don't see the point."
"That's because you're a good person," I answer and chuckle humorlessly. "Horrible people keep themselves afloat by playing dirty and it just becomes a vicious game of survival, see who can be the cruelest and stay on top."
Phoebe softens slightly, "You think that?"
"Don't ever give into the politics of high school because you become someone you hate," I point to the locker room. "Do I even want to know?"
Phoebe bites the corner of her lip and hesitates in answering, "She hacked your uniform and pom-poms up, and left a flask on top of it."
"My uniform?" I question with disbelief getting a stiff nod in response. "It's a good thing I have a spare . . . is that it?"
She raises an eyebrow, "You aren't upset?"
"Nope. I'll need to get rid of the flask though," I pop the 'p', oddly enough not seething or as pissed off as I thought I would be. But it would be a different case if she had actually hacked up my uniform, not the spare one that barely fits. "Are you ready?"
"Um yeah." Phoebe seems shocked but walks with me to the field.
I muster the best poker face I can to avoid seeming like I'm on the verge of a breakdown. Even if yesterday was a completely different story. I still feel numb and heavy from the difficult decision I had to make - what I have to do in particular
