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Eli:Me? Jealous of you? The bar is so low, might as well step on it.
Remington:You just proved my theory.
Eli:Which is?
Remington:You’ve always had an inferiority complex because you can never reach my level of blinding charisma. Don’t worry, Eli. You can’t have everything in life.
Brandon:Come on, let’s be rational.
Eli:Something Remi will never know the meaning of, considering his multiple delusions.
All this time, I’ve been reading the chats while leaning against my car at the corner of REU, waiting for a mosquito to make her presence known.
Since I’m bored anyway, I type.
Landon:He also doesn’t know when to shut up, which will soon make him the subject of a ferocious witch hunt.
Eli:Not to mention, give him a dedicated section on some people’s shit list. He’s too blasé for his own good.
Landon:He doesn’t know how to keep his thoughts and tacky jokes to himself. For the record, you’re not funny, Remi.
Creighton:I agree. No clue why girls think of him as funny.
Remington:Spawn! How dare you turn on me and take Eli and Lan’s side over mine?
Eli:It’s the sensible thing to do. My little bro has superior taste, as expected.
Landon:Everyone but Remi does.
Remington:You jealous bitches can go die. The fact remains that I’m besties with all of your girls and always will be. Muahahaha.
I’m going to kill the bastard.
*Creighton King has left the chat*
Brandon:You shouldn’t have fanned the flames, Rems.
Eli:You made a terrible mistake. You better watch your back.
Landon:Should’ve said goodbye to your beloved Jordans while you had the chance. RIP.
Remington:It’s you! I swear to fucking God, Lan, if you don’t give them back…
I don’t read the rest of the texts. One, because I have no mind for Remi's over-the-top dramatics. Two, because the person I’ve been stalking better than an MI5 agent walks around the corner, watching her surroundings with eyes as big as a sewer rat.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and move to a hidden spot by a gigantic tree to the side.
Nila stops upon seeing my McLaren, her face pales to a pallid white.
Her heels scratch against the asphalt as she makes a run for her car. I follow behind her, and the moment she opens the door, I slam it shut and say in cold words, “Running from something, Nila?”
She slowly turns around, doing a poor imitation of those horror film airheads. She plasters a smile that’s more fake than her lashes and releases an annoying chirpy noise.
“Lan! I didn’t see you there.”
“Naturally. Since you’ve been making it your mission to avoid me.”
“What…? No, of course I wasn’t avoiding you.”
