"This story is about the boy I loved. This is about his suffering. This is about my suffering. All of it due to one thing. Affluenza."
TW : Key themes of suicide.
Sebastian Grey. Golden boy, trust fund baby, and Braylen Adams' mortal enemy. Braylen...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"OKAY, WHAT ABOUT this?" I ask, twirling around for Bethany and Robyn. I was in a pair of overalls and a white shirt, paired with white Vans and my typical assortment of rings. "Too much?"
Bethany laughs as she shoves chips in her mouth. "You look like you belong in Children of the Corn!"
"What's that?" Robyn asks, already laughing. That's how Robyn was though. She always laughed even before she understood the joke.
I stick my middle finger up at Beth, going back into the closet to change as she explains it, Robyn. I shrug off the overalls and grab a tan sweater and light blue jeans instead. I walk back into my bedroom and sigh. "Satisfactory?"
"Much better," Robyn says, grinning. "Though, you really do need a haircut. It's nearly past your shoulders, babes."
I make a face at her. I was very sensitive about haircuts ever since I got a bowl cut in the seventh grade. Sebastian teased me endlessly. Besides, I liked my hair long.
"I can't believe you're not going to Ash's party tonight, Robyn," Bethany says, crossing her ripped jean-clad leg over the other. "What does Daniel have planned?"
She shrugs. "Nothing major. I'm pretty sure we're just watching Netflix at his place."
"More like Netflix will be watching you," I mutter, falling back onto my bed and leaning back on my arms. "All you two do is have sex."
"Not true!" Robyn argues. "We FaceTimed for seven hours yesterday. It's our new record."
I raise an eyebrow. "Couple goals, literally."
Beth groans, standing up. "Why does Bridget take so long to get ready? It's literally just putting on clothes and calling it a day."
They were planning on going to their own eighth-grade party since they were too young to go to Sebastian. Which I had to hear Bridget argue with Oba about for three long days.
I snort. "You know she flat irons her hair strands one by one. I swear, Beth, one day they're going to fall out and I'm going to say 'I—"
A shoe hits me in the face and I wince, turning around. Bridget's there in a crop top and an extremely small miniskirt. She grabs the shoe and slips it back on, glaring at me. "Very funny, Braylen. Let's go, Beth."
"Hell no!" I shout, standing up. "Bridget, you cannot leave the house dressed like that."
She crosses her arms. "Mom would let me. She thinks this skirt is cute."
"Yeah, we all did. Four years ago when it actually fit you!" I exclaim. "You shot up, like, three inches, Bridge. I'm not letting you go out with your entire butt hanging out of a skirt. Put some actual clothes on, yeah?"
