"If you ever try that shit again, I'll murder you and hide your body parts in a Ziploc bag."
Sapphire Sanders is almost 18 years old, and she's about to graduate high school. She only lives with her siblings, since her parents are basically non exis...
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Okay, maybe I was insane.
I know I've said it multiple times now but I genuinely think I went insane last night.
I didn't get a wink of sleep.
What the fuck was I even thinking? I actually kissed that freak on the cheek!
Not like it meant anything. But what if he thought it meant something and he's panicking about it as much as I am. Oh my God, now I'm thinking about him thinking about it and panicking and now I'm panicking!
Originally, I was planning on going in for another awkward semi hug when my body decided that it could just ditch my basically non existent brain and work in it's own.
And he just stood there.
Did he like it? Was he disgusted? Why am I even worried about this?
Honestly, I have no idea to any of those questions. I just feel confused about everything all of a sudden.
I mean, last night was cool. Cool as in, I showed up to a semi important date in a t shirt and jeans, I was a catalyst for the inevitable breakup between Neil and Pierre, I threw a bunch of fries at Trevor and he poured his cup of fresh juice on my hair.
I can still smell said juice.
He looked sorry and gave me his warm jacket immediately, which I discreetly sniffed.
Behind his back.
Outside the restaurant.
While throwing stones at a squirrel.
I think I should just deliver myself to the mental asylum before they come looking for me.
My train of thought was interrupted when Em burst into my room, looking like she'd just arm wrestled with a squirrel that was all riled up from being stoned at.
My bad.
"I need your help." She says, forcing the words out of her mouth so quickly, it sounded like she said bourgeoisieses.
Out of pocket.
"Come again?"
"Please don't make me do this." She begged, sounding awfully desperate.
I groan, flopping down on my bed. "What do you fucking want?" I half shout into my pillow.
"I need advice on what to wear."
Was I going deaf? Emerald Elaine Sanders. Asking me for fashion advice. Me. No fucking way.
"Listen, Em. Maybe you made a mistake. Like you came here to ask for advice on how not to be fashionable. I literally wore a fucking Rick and Morty shirt to a double date-"
"You went on a date?" She interrupts me abruptly, whatever words in her mouth she wanted to say flying out at once.
