Love is Evol~Chase Hudson (DISCONTINUED!)

3

The plane ride was torturous, the woman next to me was squealing like a school girl with her face in a book. A good one at that, she was reading "That was then, this is now" by S.E Hinton. I personally think it's an amazing book I've read it several times, but it's nothing to be squealing about. And of course I was sat next to a window. The only thing I could think of was getting to Los Angeles, I'm sad that I'm leaving Paterson but miss it? Never, I think we're the only Paterson with one "t" we are minorities and always left out. Even Fetty Wap fell off quickly. Nothing from Paterson sticks, I'm not even sure I'll make a real career out of singing .

"Oh my god." The lady next to me gasps her face still stuck in her book. From the looks of it, it's seems she's in the middle of the book. The only interesting thing in the middle of that book is when Bryon finds out that Mark is selling drugs. I groan loudly and she looks over to me her glasses rest low on the bridge of her nose and her poorly lined lips pucker out at me.

"Can I help you." She rudely remarks. She's got to be kidding me, she's sitting here squealing at a grade school reading level book, and she has the nerve to bad mouth me. I grab a hold of my locket out of habit. Her eyes flicker down to the dirty silver.

"Nice locket." She smugly smirks, her face is proud and content. She seems to be pleased with the grimace I have on my face.

"Nice book, it'd be a shame if someone spoiled it for you. Wouldn't it?" Her proud smirk turns into a deep scowl, and I smile. "Well, Bryon called the cops on Mark because of the drugs hidden under his mattress. But I think you know that already, anyway Mark goes to jail, m&m is still a little lost in the mind and Bryon went to visit Mark in jail, but something is off. Mark is being a sarcastic dick since Bryon was the one who got him arrested and testified against him. Mark says to bryon "I didn't have to see you but I'm  just making sure." Bryon asks "making sure of what?"  then Mark says "making sure I still hate you." That's when, get ready for it Bryon says to Mark "if you straighten up they'll let you out early and you can live with me and my mom again." But Mark says "like hell I will"  he then says Bryon will never see his face again. Bryon says "But we where like brothers, you where my best friend..." and Mark says "that was then, this is now." The end." I cheekily smile trying to get under the lady's skin. And by the angry look on her face I did just that.

"Did you enjoy the book?" I ask innocently, dramatically folding my hands over my lap and smiling big.

"You! You are such an asshole." She whisper shouts. I laugh loudly shaking my head.

"You don't know me." I say through my laughter. "I just met you and the way you judge my character is by classifying me as an asshole." I place my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.

"Well...urm, well yo-."

"Me what? I'm a certified ass, because I what? Spoiled your book, the one you were reading to pass time. The one you probably will never read again because every time you pick it up it'll remind you of me. Well I really don't care, you should learn some morals. There are things way worse in life than a spoiled book you bought at the thrift store." I giggle my cheeks hot and mouth tired. The lady huffed and angrily stuffed her book in her bag.

I slept through the rest of the flight. The lady who's name I've learned to be Beatrice, requested to have her seat changed but was denied several times. Only adding to her annoyance. I guess this flight wasn't too bad. I felt amusement out of Beatrice's agitated state. Maybe I am an asshole? I smile at the thought.

I wave goodbye to Beatrice as I step of the plane. She glares at me and I shrug. I ordered an Uber to campus, I looked out the window, enjoying the ride.

I take a big breath before stepping onto campus, walking quickly to find my dorm room. I sigh when I reach my dorm, number thirteen. I trace the number on the door with my finger, shaking my head slightly at the irony. I hate the number thirteen. I fluff my diva curls before entering the room. I wrap my manicured fingers around the cold steel door knob, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.