Pranking The Prankster

Chapter 27

Song
One Thing - One Direction

_____________________

"Look, guys, I've faced a lot of deception these past few weeks, and I'm tired of the lies and the drama. I just think the truth should really be out there, you know? So I want you to answer as truthfully as you can."

It's two days later after the big confrontation with Josh. I'm trying not to think about him at all now, it hurts so much. I always suspected this would happen in the first place, but now that it has happened it's almost unbelievable. I really am just another in his long list of girls. Just another notch in his belt; another trophy on his shelf.

I shake my head, willing myself to stop thinking about him. Instead, I focus on the two redheads sitting in front of me.

"Well? Are you dating or not?"

Mona ducks her head bashfully, biting her lip. Today her hair is tied in little bunches like a little kid's, and they waggle at each movement. She fingers the hem of her pleated skirt nervously, and Brad blushes bright red.

"Yes."

"No."

They both stop and exchange looks. I raise my eyebrows at them.

"No."

"Yes."

More shared looks. Brad clears his throat. "I mean, yes we are. Er, right, Mona?"

Mona shrugs heavily, making the bunches waggle. "I dunno. It all depends on you, I guess."

"Okay, so we are dating. You're cool with this, right, Anna? If it makes you unhappy, you just need to say it, because your friendship with Mona is a million times more important than this."

"Brad, it's fine. I'm happy for you two." I make the sign of the cross over them. "Now go in peace. You have my blessing."

Mona hugs me hard for a moment, then they both leave to go see some movie. I stay up in my room and read for a while, but it soon gets boring and I just stare up at my ceiling for a while. My eyes are just beginning to shut when, somewhat vaguely, I hear the doorbell ring downstairs.

I hear the door opening, then the murmur of low voices and the the sound of the door shutting. Then a pair of heavy shoes clopping up the stairs.

I sit up quickly, just as there's a loud rap on my door. I tread softly to it and peep out the keyhole. I see a tall figure dressed casually, blue jeans and a checkered vest over a white shirt that fits perfectly over a broad chest. And brown boots. Very gentlemanly.

I pull the door open, and I'm met with the familiar comforting sight of Jax Emerson. His eyes widen when he sees me - or what I'm wearing, to be exact - and then he blushes. I'm wearing a pair of depressed canary yellow jeans I cut into shorts, flip-flops, and a loose pink T-shirt that says DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY slipping off the round of one shoulder, exposing a hot-pink bra strap. I readjust my shirt as Jax fumbles for words, clearing his throat nervously.

"H-Hi, Anna. I'm sorry for dropping in like this. I just . . . I just had to see you -"

I press a finger to his lips, and he stops talking abruptly.

"It's alright," I say. "I'm glad you're here." And I am, because I've been so desperately lonely that I can't stand it anymore.