Follow my Instagram @prollywriting for updates, sneak peaks, and exclusive content.
-

I wake up in the morning, my head spinning.

Well, not literally spinning. I'd sincerely hope that wasn't the case.

Anyways, you're probably wondering why my head is currently figuratively spinning.

I won't even make you guess. I'll give you the reason. His name is Parker Jansen.

He happens to be the fraternal twin of my best friend, and also a great kisser.

Not that I have much to compare it to.

See, before coming here and meeting everyone, I was a lot quieter. Of course, I'd always had my sarcasm and stubbornness, that I was born with, but I wasn't as confident, or social as I am now. I'd only ever had one real boyfriend.

His name was Harold and we were six.

No, no, I'm totally kidding. First off, his name wasn't Harold, secondly, it occurred sophomore year and into the summer before junior.

And third? Even if metaphorical Harold and me had a thing, who the heck names a baby Harold? Harold was the type of guy that popped out of the womb age twenty nine and in a business suit with a briefcase.

If that's possible.

But don't start hating on me now, I swear I'm not nameiphobic. I am openly accepting of all names. I mean, it's not just Harold's born that way. It could also be Ronald's, or Ellen's, or Dana's, or Roberts.

No offense or anything.

Now back to my predicament with Parker.

I'm currently sitting next to his sister, passed out, most likely from a, all the wine we decided to open last night, and also b, severe lack of sleep.

I bite my lip. Elle will be up eventually, what should I tell her?

It's not like I think she'll judge me with a guy, but what am I supposed to say?

Hey Elle, I may have totally made out with your hot brother yesterday and he may have shoved me against the wall and I tried talking my clothes off. I blame it on the alcohol.

I mean, I guess if I was asked what happened, that's what I'd say.

But when I think back, all I can remember is the dark shadows on the walls of the pantry, flickering around us, and the soft golden glow of the lamps outside. I remember the feeling of his lips pressed to mine, his fingers laced through my hair, and running up and down my back and across my neck.

I remember breathing in his amazing cologne that just smelled so..Parker.

The night was fuzzy, but his face remained clear as day.

And it was beautiful.

Not that it meant anything to him. See, Parker denies being a player, but with his personality, and looks, how can he not be?

I was probably, and still am, just a thing to him.

-

"Lexa!" Elle rolls over, "C'mon, we're ditching today."

"What? No, I can't, I have a test tomor-"

"Oh relax, Parker will get your Korea for you."

"Elle, I-"

She stares at me, "Girls day. No excuses Lexa." She stretches my name out, smiling.

"Alright, alright. But..he..better give me all of the notes and shit I need."

"Parker!" Elle walks over to his room and bangs on the door.

"What the fuck do you want?" A groggy voice comes from behind the door. Obviously, someone's tired.

"What are you so grouchy from anyways? Mad you didn't get laid yet again last night?"

I suck in a breath.

"Actually, while I may not have needed to get laid, I had a great time-" The door opens to reveal him casually leaning on the doorframe in low hung pajama pants, "-With a great girl." He shoots a wink in my direction.

Elle scoffs at him, "Stop trying to flirt with Lexa, she's not into guys like you anyways."

"And what are guys like him?" I question aloud.

"My twin brother," She begins, "Is one of the most horrid creatures on this planet."

I tune her out after that. Funny, he didn't look so horrid..?

Elle turns, "Finish getting ready Lex, I'll be in the car in ten." She lets the door slam behind her gleefully.

Oh frack. Now what.

"Well, well." Parker smirks, still against the doorframe.

A light blush rises to my cheeks.

"Well, well yourself." I reply coyly.

"So Elle here tells me you're not into guys like me. Funny how that worked out."

"Maybe Elle doesn't have the best judgement in my preferences."

"So you prefer..uh..gir-"

"No!" I slap him, laughing. "I'm completely into guys, I promise."

"Just not, my type?" Parker bites his lip.

"So you have a type now? I don't think being known as Elle's Brother qualifies you enough to have your own type." I grin.

"Maybe you're right." He walks closer, "Or maybe I shouldn't talk to you anymore since being known as Elle's twin is a negative factor."

My eyes linger on his lips.

"Or maybe for now we just won't tell her." He mumbles.

"I have to leave now." I half skip over to the door.

"What the hell?" He groans, "A guy can't drive a girl to school anymore?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, I'm ditching. Take good notes for me?"

"So you're leaving school, and you think making me go to school and keeping track of all your stuff is going to be happening..I should do that why?"

"Because." I place a hand on his chest teasingly.

"Lexaaa."

"Parkerrr." I tease, running my hand up and down, smirking.

"Fine, I'll do it." He rolls his eyes.

I walk back over to the door. Elle will probably be in here in two seconds wondering what the holdup is.

"And Lex?"

I turn.

"Don't think it's that little move that convinced me. Both of us know you only really wanted the chance to touch my abs again."

I promptly slam the door behind me.

Well. Touché.

-

"E, my feet feel like I've walked on hot coals, they fricking kill." I complain.

"Stop complaining." She chirps, "It wasn't the one that chose you wear flat shoes."

Frack you, Elle. I love my converse.

"Can we leave?" I ask.

"No, I have to stop in, I told my manager that I'd put in an hour at least today."

"UGHHH." Might as well just kill myself now.

Actually just kidding. That's a lot of work.

And a legend like myself can't die this early.

"Um, E? Hot Topic is that way..?" I point.

"Oh. Yeah, I got fired from that. Apparently there was a complaint."

"I wonder whoever that could've been from." I mutter.

"Anyways, I work at GameStop now. Ninety eight percent sure they hired me to lure in more nerds. See, there's two types you should know about when we get in there. There's the tall acne covered, and the short, thicker looking. Occasionally a hot one will stroll on in, in his khaki pants and Nike sweatshirt glory, but that's rare. If that occurs you alert me immediately by phone or text."

"Wait, where will you be?" I question.

"Oh yeah, I need you to fill in for me for like thirty minutes."

I groan, "No, not again, I can't handle another Boxer Boy."

"Mason isn't that bad." Elle laughs.

"Yeah. We'll see about that."

-

I stand behind the counter at GameStop, looking around casually.

The place was pretty much dead, from the two other employees probably making out in the back room, to all the dead robots, monsters, etc on the covers of the games.

And it turns out? Elle was right about her nerd theory.

"Look who it is." A voice buzzes from the entrance to the store.

Please no. My breathing hitches. Oh no. I can't die now.

I glance up. Mason. In all his glory. Wait, no. What glory? Mason doesn't have any.

I take it back. Although I am a legend, I give you my permission to actually kill me now.

"Boxer Boy. Fun seeing you in a store, yet again." I force myself to smile through gritted teeth.

"Aw Lex, your sarcasm is so cute. Makes me want to shit rainbows."

He looks strangely happy this afternoon. Or maybe he just likes humiliating me.

"Where's the other employees?" He questions.

I groan, "They went into the back the second I got here. I've had exactly one customer since. Actually," I change my mind, "I've had zero customers and one annoying dick."

"I could think of a few different descriptive words other than annoying but whatever floats your boat."

"Oh shut up, Mason."

"Don't shut up me, I'm trying to get you out of here."

I raise an eyebrow.

He chuckles, "Who do you think took over for Elle before you got here? This has been happening for about eight months now and she still won't tell anyone anything as to why." He walks behind the counter, "Excuse me."
He winks at the not so happy due to being currently interrupted couple.

I can't make out the rest of what he said, but it must've worked because in the next following minutes they're both behind the counter and I'm whisked out the door.

"Mase, what did you say to them?" I laugh.

He grins, "Well. Let's just say Elle may be losing that job too."

"I'm bored." I huff.

"Truth or dare?" He asks, smirking.

Well. I'll either have to reveal who I like or kiss someone. Eh. I've already kissed him before and it's not like this is more than a game that was played out by the end of seventh grade.

"Dare."

"I dare you to find a homecoming dress."

My mouth drops open, "You take that back."

Don't get me wrong, I'm all up for wearing dresses, I just hate shopping for nine freaking hours and then not even finding one.

And now I have to do all of that but with Mason Derivan.

Fun.

"Fine, then I dare you to find something for homecoming as well." I cock my head. At least if one of us has to go down, the other gets dragged along as well.

"Ah, but you see I never picked dare." He chuckles.

"Fine. Who do you like?" I stick to the traditional truth, too uncreative to come up with a good idea.

"You." He smirks.

I roll my eyes. Should've known he wouldn't be serious about this.

And that's the story of how I got my final homecoming dress.

The dress itself actually isn't half bad, it's the annoying person rapping on the door every two seconds either asking if I'm done yet or if he can come in that's quite bothersome.

"No, you cannot come in!" I whisper yell through the door.

"Lexaaa." He groans.

I open the door, casually shoving him away before walking over to the large mirror that tripled my image. I spin around giddily. It looks even prettier tripled.

"Wow Lex." He stares into my reflection, at the beautiful dress.

It's a two piecer, or whatever the hell its called, the top being a tight crop top with straps lacing around my neck, and the bottom a puffy skirt, showing just the right amount of stomach above it. The entire top is sequined with sequins shiny enough to be rubies, and the skirt shines a brilliant scarlet. Beautiful.

"What? I look hot don't I?" I chuckle, spinning around again.

He catches me, his hands on my hips. I blush.

"Sorry." He mutters, stuffing his hands back into his pockets, "Let's get out of here, yeah? This place wreaks of hairspray."

At least that much I can agree on.

-

Thanks for 55k
Also follow my Instagram mentioned at the beginning of the chapter! (@prollywriting)