❝ we're all just a bunch of addicts, struggling with our drug of choice ❞
This is just another basic, totally normal, nothing out of the ordinary high school cliché romance book but on CrAcK
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｡˚۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐈
❝when your day is going too well and you don't trust it and some shit finally goes down❞
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❝𝐌𝐘 eyes are up here," Jordyn snapped at the group of freshman, scaring them away. They shut their lockers and scattered, mumbling curses under their breaths as they stumbled in each other's way.
Minx snorted, "fucking pussies," leading Niki to cover her mouth and giggle.
"What's everyone's problem?" Jordyn scoffed, slamming her locker shut and throwing her textbook in her bag. "It's like there's something on my face."
"It's called pretty," Puffy noted.
Jordyn turned to her and gave the woman a glowering look.
"I don't think it's your face," Minx stated. "I think it's more of," she coughed, gesturing at her clothes. "Yeah."
"What the hell is wrong with this shirt?" Jordyn asked, pulling at it.
"Don't worry about it," Puffy waved her off.
Jordyn was not convinced.
"Ayup!" someone called, resting their arm on top of her head as if she was an armrest.
"Wilbur, hello," Niki waved, beaming at the sight of the tall lad.
"Niki," Wilbur greeted back with a soft smile. "What's poppin, guys?" He then turned to the rest of them, stopping abruptly at Jordyn. "You guys don't mind if I drag her aside, aye?"
"Not really," Minx shrugged, but Wilbur was way ahead. Jordyn yelped as he suddenly pulled her aside and into the empty classroom.
"What was that for," Jordyn grimaced. "I have legs, y'know? I can walk."
"Clearly," Wilbur said. "Now, mind telling me what the fuck you're wearing?"
"What's wrong with this shirt?" she arched a brow.
Wilbur pressed his lips together and nodded, "Okay, let me rephrase that."
"Mhm."
"Jordyn," Wilbur began calmly. "Mind telling me why the fuck the jersey you're wearing has the name Armstrong written on the back of it?"
"Oh, that?" she chuckled. "That's because it's Nick's."
"Hm, right," Wilbur stepped back and brought his hands to his mouth in a praying manner. "and why are you wearing his jersey? I recall your earlier outfit to be quite fitting."
"That's cause Minx spilt her monster on me," Jordyn explained.
"And how does that have to do with this?" he pulled at the sleeves slightly.
"Hey," Jordyn slapped his hand away. "The reason she spilt her monster on me in the first place is because that- that stupid guy or whatever fucking kicked the football towards us. At least I think so- was it him?"
"Jordyn."
"Fuck!" she huffed. "The point is, Minx spilt her monster on my shirt because either he or one of his friends shot the ball towards us and I got mad and he felt bad so he lend me one of his clean Jerseys from his locker."
Wilbur hummed.
"There!" Jordyn sighed and leaned back on one of the seats. "Happy?"
"I mean I wasn't upset," Wilbur shrugged. "I was just wondering."
"What's the big deal about wearing a jersey anyway?" She added. "Everyone's been goggling at it and it's pissing me off."
"Wait, you don't know?"
"Don't know what?"
"Who am I kidding," Wilbur shook his head and pushed his glasses further up to his face. "You've been here for like a month, you wouldn't know."
"Sir, do please elaborate," Jordyn urged him to speak up.
"Football players don't usually lend their jerseys to anyone," He answered, crossing his arms and sitting on one of the desks.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she furrowed her brows.
"That means the reason's everyone been staring at you all weird is because they think you two are together."
Jordyn gaped, "what."
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A/N
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