Chapter 11: I'll leave you in your ugliness then

Have you ever felt like sleeping for the whole day, with not a single thing or someone disturbing you?

I have and right now, these are one of those moments. I am lying on my bed with my body spread across the entire bed. Unfortunately, I have to leave my comfort spot and freshen up. Why? Because of a stupid beach party that I was forced to attend.

I arrived home from school, sleep deprived, and all I want to do is rest. But I can't because Peyton called me to tell me that she'll be arriving at my house five minutes from now. Which means no sleep for me, even after a whole week of torture.

Thursday Jordan decided that it would be funny to prank our maths teacher, Mr Thompson, by putting a chilli bomb on his desk. When the bomb exploded, Mr Thompson's face became more read than the chilli and I could see smoke seeping out of his ears and he was seething. Jordan was given detention, although it didn't bother him. So I decided to stay after school to help him clean the classroom.

I'm a good friend, aren't I?

Today at school, Luke thought it would be fun to start a food fight in the cafeteria. He started off by throwing food at Nate who threw food back at him. The two continued to fight and soon the whole table was covered in food. Then someone amongst the learners decided that it would be a good idea to yell "food fight!" to the whole cafeteria and that caused the principle to show up.

The principle punished only our table for the cause of the cafeteria outrage and forced us to clean up the whole cafeteria on our own. We all blamed Luke for it, but his excuse was that 'it wasn't his fault that Nate decided to throw food back at him, even though they said that we should not take revenge'.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I hear a knock at the door and grunt before walking to the door. I throw the door open to reveal a wide grinning Kaitlyn and Cathy.

"Hi!" They greet. Their faces exude excitement, which is something that is not in me right now.

"Hi," I greet flatly.

"Okay, I think someone is grumpy," Kaitlyn says sarcastically.

"No kidding," I reply sarcastically and throw myself back on my bed and allow them to come in.

"What's wrong?" Cathy asks.

"I don't wanna go," I whine.

"Oh no missy, you are going," Kaitlyn warns.

"But I don't want to," I give them my best puppy dog eyes. Nobody ever escapes my puppy eyes. They are hypnotic.

"Not working," Kaitlyn deadpans.

Did I speak too soon?

"But why?" I whine.

"Because I was invited to hang out with one of the most popular guys in school and I think I like him and because I don't want to go alone, you guys have to be there and I mean all of you, so if you're not there I'm not going and if I'm not going I'm gonna cry forever and it's all gonna be your fault," she says too quickly without catching a breath.

"Katy, calm down," Cathy calms her down.

"Fine," I sigh, earning cheerful squeak from Kaitlyn.

Someone help me.

I walk to my bathroom and take a quick shower. Then, I walk back to my bedroom and find three outfits layed out neatly on the bed and next to it, layed a blue and white polka-dotted bikini.

"You like?" Asks Peyton.

Peyton? When did she get in here? Kaitlyn and Cathy aren't in the room either. Did I miss something or was that just weird? They probably left or they might be downstairs.

"No greeting?" I arch my eyebrow at Peyton.

"Greetings come later. Right now, we have more important things to do," she states.

"Talk about manners," I mutter to myself.

"So which one do you like?" She asks impatiently, as if she needed the bathroom.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" I ask her, but she gives me a look that says ask again or I'll murder you.

"Just asking," I shrug.

"Pick. Now."

"Why the rush?" I tease.

For some reason, I feel getting on her nerves because I can clearly tell that she doesn't like being disturbed when clothes or anything relating to fashion is involved. So because I love irritating people, I'm going to push her buttons. Hopefully.

"Because the guys will be here in ten minutes and I still need to do your make-up," she says with her teeth gritted.

"Uh-uh. No make-up," I refuse. "I hate it."

"Well, too bad. You're a girl and girls use make-up," she shrugs.

"I said no."

"Okay, then I'll leave you in your ugliness then."

"Thank you for respecting my decision."

I find no reason for make-up. All it does is making you appear fake. For some people, make-up really makes them beautiful and shine, but for other people, the pound of make-up they put on makes them less appealing.

In my previous school, the queeb bee, Marissa - the school's [ugly word of your choice] -, used to wear make-up so much that once she was thrown into the pool at a pool party - she didn't wear waterproof make-up - and the make up wore off. Her eyeliner was trickling down her cheeks and she looked like she was attacked by an angry bear. Served her right for thinking she ruled the school.

"You mean a horrible decision," she mumbles.

"Heard that."

"You were supposed to," she sticks her tongue out at me and I roll my eyes.

"Could you choose already?" she grunts.

"Choose what?"

"Really?" She arches her eyebrow.

"Fine," I sigh.

The first outfit is a floral yellow sundress which reaches my mid thigh. The second outfit, is a pair of high waist denim shorts and a plain white tank top. The third outfit is a pair of black jeans with a maroon crop top.

"I'll wear the shorts and white shirt," I sigh.

"Good choice," she grins. "Don't forget the bikini."

"I'm not wearing that skimpy thing," I shake my head.

"Yes you are. Now hurry up, the guys are almost here."

After giving a very loud grunt, I don the bikini and cover it up with the white shirt and shorts. After wearing my outfit, I finish off with a pair of flip flops.

After a few minutes, the guys arrive and me and Peyton make our way downstairs. I bid my mother goodbye and we leave the house.

We see two cars waiting for us in my driveway and I immediately notice Tristan's mustang.

"Hey guys," Peyton greets them.

"Hi, you guys look great," Chase says eyeing us up and down. This is the reason why I hate wearing short things.

"Thanks, you look okay yourself," I say. He is already in his swimming shorts, as well as Tristan, and the are leaning against their cars with their arms crossed, causing them to flex and damn they look good. Yeah, I got eyes.

"So one of you guys rides with me and one of you ride with Tristan," he says.

"Why? Isn't there enough space for the both of us in one car?" I ask.

"Well," he scrathes the back of his neck nervously. "The thing is, we made a deal."

"What kind of deal?" I arch my eyebrow.

"That shall not be mentioned," he shakes his head.

"Can we go now?" Tristan interrupts.

"Well, I guess we have to hurry up," he pulls Peyton's hand and drags her to his car.

"Hey! Don't leave me with this...thing," I protest.

"Well this 'thing' has a name," Tristan air qoutes 'thing'.

"Didn't know," I say sarcastically.

"And she's back," he sighs before getting inside his car and I roll my eyes.

"Where's Kaitlyn and Cathy?" I ask as I throw myself in the passenger seat.

"Don't know. They're your friends," he shrugs and inserts the key into the ignition and wait as the car roars to life.

"Where's Jordan?"

"Don't know, don't care," he pulls the car out of the driveway.

"Wow, you're one true friend," I mutter sarcastically.

"And you never shut up." He mutters.

"You should be happy I'm still talking you, Lesley, especially after you caused me to be thrown in jail."

"Call me Lesley one more time," he warns.

"Why not?"

"It's not my real name."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. My mother says that name just embarrass me. It's pretty dumb."

"I love your mom already," I grin. "So what's your real middle name?"

"Lucas."

"Okay."

"So you're not mad anymore?" He takes his eyes of the road to spare a glance at me and stares ahead again.

"Mad about what?" I stare at the vanishing streets of houses as we near our destination.

"The whole jail situation, since your talking to me for the first time in days."

"Nope, still mad."

I was not happy about going to jail, although Tristan's mom cleared our names. I avoided Tristan the whole week until now and he also never made effort to talk to me. I didn't mind but I actually wanted him to talk to me.

"How can I make it up to you then?" He smiles, not a smirk, but a general smile. It's as if light has been brought back into his life and his eyes are reflecting that light.

"That's the second time you do that," I say. I remember the first time he actually smiled was when he gave me a ride to go see Henry, but his smile lasted for no longer than two seconds. It's a shame, he has a nice smile.

Okay, since when do I say things like that?

"Do what?"

"Smile." Tristan's face darkens again and his hold on the steering wheel tightens. I notice his jawline tense as he clenches his teeth.

"Oreos," I say, trying to enlighten the awkward silence that sneaked its way into the car.

"What?"

"Buy me Oreos and I won't stay mad."

"Okay."

- - - - - -
A/N: Hello guys! Long time since I've updated. Please tell me what you think about my story so far. This is my first book so I need advice. Give me ideas on how to improve my story.

Chapter question:

What do you think makes Tristan tense whenever Hailey mentions his smile?

Thanks for all your support and votes.

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