4: More Issues Than Vogue

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
"Maxine, don't even start with me!" I exclaim, rushing past my best friend. I can't believe I just kissed that low-life! This is not happening. This is a dream. No! This is a freaking nightmare. I've clearly been possessed. Maybe my dad was right... I should go to church more often.   
                          
Maxine grabs my hand and tugs me backward. "Dude! What the fuck was that?! I thought you were going to go talk to him, not make-out with him!"
                          
"We didn't make-out! It was-uh,  just a peck," I stutter, full-blown anxiety coursing through my veins. "Can we talk about this later? We have to go do campus tours. We can't leave the freshman to fend for themselves." I try to pull away but her grip is ironclad.
                          
Maxine crosses her arms, her eyes ridiculously assertive. "Screw the tours! Explain yourself, woman!"
                          
Grunting with deep-seated frustration, I drop my face into my hands. "I was just telling him to move his motorcycle and then we started arguing and then I saw Sawyer with Corrine, and I just...snapped." I jerk my head up. "Wait, you saw us kissing, right? Do you think Sawyer saw?"
                          
It blows my mind that Sawyer, after years of telling how much Corrine annoys him, is dating her! I shouldn't be this surprised though, I guess with Corrine he knows he'll get  some. Every other guy in our class has. They don't call her The Joint for nothing.  Puff Puff Pass. 
                          
"Dude, everyone within a thirty-yard radius saw you two kissing. You were arguing pretty fucking loud." Maxine pulls out her phone. "I even got a video!" 
                          
My face pales. "You were recording us?! Max! That's so creepy! Why?" This is horrible. She has physical evidence of my momentary insanity. "You didn't post it anywhere...right?" If she did, my life is over.  
                          
Maxine smirks, forcing my heart to drop into my stomach. "Oh relax, Kenny," she laughs. "I didn't post it. I just wanted to document the wildest thing I've ever seen in my life. Imagine witnessing Santa Claus smoke crack- same energy." 
                          
I blink. Her analogies have never been on point but this one...kind of makes sense. "God, why did I do that?" I whine. "So stupid."
                          
Maxine pats me on the shoulder. "Hmm...let's see...spite, jealousy, hormones, a not yet fully developed frontal lobe. Or! Maybe because you thought he was hot? Hmm?"
                          
"He is not hot!" I scoff. "He is the rudest, most infuriating person I have ever met! If he didn't have an accent, I wouldn't be able to list any positive qualities, like at all!"
                          
Maxine springs up, her eyes gleaming with intrigue. "He has an accent?" 
                          
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, he's British or something," I mutter, his annoying voice ringing in my head. "He called me an idiot, Max! Me!"
                          
Maxine starts laughing, looping her arm through mine. "Why did he call you an idiot?" she probes in an overly sweet tone. 
                          
I suck in a sharp breath and give Max a play-by-play of our conversation as we make our way to the group of lost freshmen. Oliver better be in a grade below us. I refuse to breathe the same air as that asshole.