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OVERDRIVE – Conan Gray
INTO IT – Chase Atlantic
WHY – Sabrina Carpenter
IMAGINE – Ariana Grande
MESS IT UP – Gracie Abrams
COMPASS – The Neighbourhood
“You aren’t missing out on anything but annoying roommates and fear of catching infections in the showers.” “Uh… I’m your roommate,” Madeline says, narrowing her eyes at her. Gabriella grins; her eyes are on me. “My point exactly,” she says.
If she thought this would end up with us in love and shit, I need to let her know that’s never going to happen.
“How?” I ask. He smirks. “Because it makes me want to corrupt you.”
“No.” I wipe a hand down my face. “She asked me to show her how to live like I do.” He nods. “So, she wants to run away from her problems by pretending to be a fuck up?”
“The same can be said for chicken,” Gabi retorts. “And who doesn’t like chicken?” “Leila,” both me and Madi reply. Leila’s been a vegetarian for as long as I’ve known her.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’ve got a gift for you.” My eyebrows scrunch. “A gift?” He smirks again and then leans into his car, through the open window, and pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers. Pink roses. They’re absolutely gorgeous, and the fact that Grayson bought them for me makes them even better. “You got me flowers,” I say more than ask. I’m in disbelief. He walks towards me and hands me the flowers. I take them from him and look down at them, unable to stop staring at them. Grayson got me flowers.
So, that was an orgasm. Fun.
“Please, angel. Just tell me. What did you take?” he asks again. I didn’t take anything. I didn’t do anything. I shake my head. “Grayson,” I choke out. “Make it stop.” “Fuck, Rosie. Don’t do this to me, please,” he rasps, his voice breaking. “Not again.”
He's not my boyfriend; that's clear. He's just a friend that gives me orgasms sometimes and takes me on adventures, which is totally normal, right?
“It’s my home, so I think I’ll always love it. Shopping in New York is always amazing. Ooh, and I had lunch with Emily Livingston.” I freeze at the mention of my mother.
“Because you’re not bad,” she says. “Not really.” My confusion takes over my expression. “What does that mean?” She lowers her head, leaving a soft kiss on my chest. “You’re good. You just don’t want anyone else to know you’re good.”
Word got around freshman year that a kid came from a trailer park with an addict for a mother. I took the heat for Aiden, hoping the rumors would die down. Instead, with the help of Ben Reed, word got around fast that it was me. I didn’t expect it to turn into this, though.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” He grunts. “Touch yourself, that’s it, baby.” I moan, unable to contain the pleasure of his words. He called me baby. He’s never done that before.
He tucks me into his chest, and I bite my lip to keep the tears down. I know without a doubt in my heart that I’m way too deep in this. I know that I’m falling for Grayson, I’m already halfway there. Unfortunately, he will never feel the same. What have you done, Rosie?
“It’s bad enough you opened your legs to my brother and birthed that son of a bitch, I don’t have to stand by and hear him disrespect me too.” I freeze at the doorway. What?
I didn’t kill him. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. “I was thirteen,” I say through clenched teeth. I was only a kid. I was a fucking kid.
She tightens her hold on me. “I blamed myself for years,” I tell her. “I lived with the burden that I didn’t help him. When he needed me, I didn’t help him.” I drop my head, looking down at her. “I watched my dad die.”
and I loved it.” I smile, remembering every lesson with him. I loved going on adventures with him. I loved spending time with him in general. “And him,” Leila says. “What?” I snap out of my thoughts and face her. “You love him,” she says. “It’s all over your face.”
“I’m in love with Grayson.”
He squints his eyes, shaking his head. “I know you’re hurting right now with whatever is going on that you won’t tell me. But let me remind you that my fists still fucking work, whether you’re crying or not.” “I’m not crying.” “You will when I kick your ass,” he threatens.
“Nice tattoo,” he says, gesturing to my arm. I look down, staring at the plastic wrap around my arm, and swallow hard. “Angel wings, huh?”
“Rosie, te quiero, but you smell of misery and desperation,”
Jesus, how much fucking longer are they going to keep dancing, “Does this song ever end?” I huff out.
