Picasso's Promise

Episode 19| Stuck with Me

Song above: Stuck With Me by The Neighbourhood

a/n: I triple updated so be sure to read chapter 17-18 first

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At breakfast on Monday, everyone was ready to hear about Danielle's date with the guy she met on the bus. She promptly flipped her friends off before sitting down, telling them to shut up before she made them regret being born and not swallowed by their mothers.

I didn't know what I'd do if it weren't for finding Danielle. Her humor had me rolling most of the time, not wanting to get on her bad side because of how quick she was to insult anyone. Having her around made Booker High more interesting and less of a place of terror.

I was happy the attention was on her and no one asked about my own date that was brought up last week. I would've had to lie the whole time, realizing that romanticizing and fantasizing about my nonexistent love life was the only thing that got me through life.

"Ew, don't tell me you were wearing slides and sandals on the date," Amber noted, pointing at what Danielle was wearing today.

"Who cares if I wore socks with sandals? You wear a bra with no tits."

"Fuck you."

"I'm sorry, but you aren't my type. Excluding my most recent date, I'm chubby chaser, which means you're gonna need some titties," Danielle winked. She opened up her backpack, retrieving her replacement shoes.

Knowing the dress code, Danielle wouldn't be able to wear it once we got to class. Later that day, she had said she didn't have time to lace up her tight-high boots and tossed them in her bag, so she'd make it on time.

"Do you guys want to know about my night or not?" Danielle asked. "I'm not going to if you keep up the disrespect."

"I can't promise civility, Danielle, you know me," Amber snorted.

"I can't stand you-can't stand any of you fools," she said, gesturing to the rest of the table, "it's like you all share one brain cell collectively."

Amber rolled her eyes. "I'll start with a softball question. I want to know; did you guys have a good date or not?"

"I enjoyed my time with him," she answered, "But after the texts he's been sending, I don't know all that much anymore."

"Your gut knows what's up, trust that."

"After my guts have been rearranged it's hard to tell what's wrong and right," she said with a slight shrug and the table erupted with laughter.

"Okay." Amber slid her frames down her nose, "so we know where the date ended then."

"That's all it'll be though, that one date."

"You said you enjoyed your night though. I'm confused as hell why you won't contact him again." One of her friends said, seated down the table. "He was cute."

"He was really cute," Amber emphasized, "Does he have any nice brothers or cousins...maybe even neighbors who ate at his granny's house?"

Danielle threw her head back in laughter, slapping the table. "Better yet, you can have him if you want it so much."

Amber untwisted her water bottle cap, but placed the cap on to the table when she heard those words from her friend and didn't drink from her bottle. "You need to tell me what happened through those texts. Something is not adding up."

"No, it really isn't him." Danielle assured. "A long time ago, I asked my mom what her advice was for being married for over twenty-five years. She said that she learned that it was all about perfect acceptance of an imperfect person every single day and growing with them. Whenever I think about this guy, I don't see myself being able to tolerate his quarks without wanting to pull out my head. That doesn't mean there won't ever be a girl who can or that you won't. Just that I don't have the patience."

"Quarks like what?"

"Crying after cuming."

"No way!" The girl next to her laughed. "You're lying."

"I'm not. I wish I was," she sighed, "It's something I'll never get use to. He went straight into a sobbing mess after he finished. He kept sending me text apologizing about it, but it's only gotten more awkward after that. Said I reminded him of his dead cousin."

"Cousin?" the table roared.

Danielle's friends couldn't get enough with the story, asking for more details. With the way the noise was taking over the room, I almost missed the sound of my name being said.

But as the laughter dulled, I caught Picasso across the cafeteria, waving me over and saying my name. I excused myself, and as I got up, the bell for homeroom rang. Students pushed past me to get to their class, disregarding my existence and knocking their shoulders into me.

Picasso was in his mint green Letterman jacket, one that had been in between us during a fight. It felt like a lifetime ago, far from where we were now. I bit on my lower lip, refraining the smile that couldn't help but resurface at the sight of his grin. I decided to stop fighting it and returned the grin.

"Hey," I greeted him. "What's up?"

"Hi," he grinned, snatching my hand to his side. "Do you want to get lunch off campus?"

"I thought you wanted our date to be later this week, after your game."

"Oh, this isn't the date I had in mind. I just wanted you to myself for lunch. We need to talk."

In that moment, I didn't need a shot of espresso to wake up. There was no point in caffeine to wake me up when those four words struck fear through me.

I skidded to a response, mustering a soft spoken "Sure" in his way and he granting me a tilt of the head that made me mirror him. He flashed a smile, and I could swear, I saw the sun shine behind his teeth-gloriously bright and blinding, most importantly, all for me.

"I would love to," I added. "I'll see you at the office around noon."

Not caring who saw or didn't, he planted a kiss on me that took me by surprise. It was only after, when Picasso had pulled away, that I saw Genesis over his shoulder down the hallway, watching us the whole time.

Honestly, I expected her to put her finger to her throat, making a cutting motion. But more puzzlement solidified in my gut when she smiled. I was confused, more now than ever before.

What was she thinking? More importantly, what was she planning?

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