Her mouth falls open in shock before she smiles. “Oh, you’re funny too? Yeah, I’m keeping you.”
I don’t know what that means, but little did I know that it would be the start of my first real friendship and my future career.
Chapter Three
Rosalie
Charlie is my saving grace. She picks up quickly on the hierarchy of Mystic High, but never lets my obvious lower status bug her. I know she hears the whispers and sees the vile, knowing smirks. She’s entirely too smart not to pick up on it all, but she never mentions it.
As she begins to establish her foothold in the school, I notice more and more people ignoring me, and I have my new friend to thank for that. She’s unapologetically loud and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place. It’s something I admire and envy about her.
She doesn’t care.
“Sooo,” Charlie drawls lazily as she leans back on the bleachers next to me. She pops the red sucker from between her lips before pointing across the gym to Jordan, who is snuggled up closely and seated right between Kairo’s feet. Maddox and Roman flank her sides, touching her hair and slinging an arm around her shoulder as they converse. “They seem close…”
I hum absently as I flip to a new page in my song notebook. “Mhm.”
My friend looks over at my blank page before sitting up and outstretching her hand. “Gimme. I want to see what you’re working on.”
My heart slams painfully as I wrench it away from her and tuck it closely to my heart. “I-I…no.”
She gives me a patient look. “Okay, I won’t read it, but can you at least tell me what you spend all your time writing in there? It’s been two months since we met. That’s like premiumbest friend status.”
I roll my eyes. “Premium status, huh? I’ve never had a best friend before, but I know that isn’t a thing.”
She squeezes her palms together desperately. “Please, please, please, Rose? I’m dying here.”
This is something I’ve never shared with another soul. This worn-out, dingy notebook stays with me at all times. My heart bleeds onto the thin sheets of stark white paper.
Sharing this feels…intense.
I’m not ready for Charlie to read what goes on in my fucked up head, but I’m steadily getting used to letting her into parts of my life. Hell, the other day she convinced me to choose a favorite color, even though I had never even considered it.
Purple.
As anti-climactic as that is.
“I write songs,” I blurt, feeling like my face is going to catch on fire. “That’s it.”
She blinks at me. “You’ve been holding out on me this whole time?”
“W-what?” I stutter.
She throws her hands up. “Just last week, we had to write a song for music, and I should have known you were damn good at it with how fast you came up with a perfect piece! The nerve!”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”
She makes a key-in-a-lock motion near her mouth. “Ride or die. I’m not saying anything.”
That’s another thing I admire about her. She keeps her word, no matter what.
“Alright, listen up!” Coach shouts as he steps onto the basketball court with his loose blue shorts and standard white Mystic High gym shirt. “Today, we’re playing dodgeball!”
“Oh, fuck me,” I sink lower in the stands, trying to hide myself from being called on.
“Jordan and Sierra are your team captains,” Coachannounces as he steps off the court to watch from the sidelines.
Jordan bounces up, her perfect curls falling in ringlets over her shoulders as she takes the center court. Sierra slides beside her, her brown bob tucked neatly behind her ears as she scrutinizes the crowd of teens waiting in anticipation.
