Leave the Starbucks to give Hillary her iPod back.
From Create Your Own Story
9 a.m.
Grabbing your white mocha (that lady didn't mix it right, goddamnit) you head out the door, shivering in your sundress. It keeps getting colder, and you're sick of it.
"Hey, Hillary!" you say, coating every word in a layer of sugar. You swing your legs a little in your pretty dress, because Mr. Dreads has his eyes on them, and you know it. You go digging through your purse. "I just completely forgot-"
"Looky who it is!" says Beiber Hair, who has no idea who you are.
Hillary cackles a little, her eyes red-rimmed. "Heeey! It's you! You stole my iPod!" She finds this to be hilariously funny, and grabs on to Beiber Hair for support.
You grin. "No, it's fine, I have it right here." You pull it out of your bag and hand it over. "I just wanted to give it to you is all." You're becoming a little bit uncomfortable, because you're aware that Mr. Dreads hasn't stopped looking at you yet.
"Wait." Hillary looks at you with seriousness in her face. "I have a chemistry question."
Hillary and Beiber Hair are obviously high, so you know this is going to go in one ear and out the other. You make an effort to help her for about twenty minutes, considering giving up but not quite yet. While Hillary and Beiber Hair look like you could rob them blind and they'd simply be thrilled, Mr. Dreads simply looks intense. You decide he's either not as high, or he's simply a marijuana veteran. He's also very attractive, hotter than the college dude was, even.
Hillary isn't nearly done with understanding the answer to her question (which might as well have been, "Teach me chemistry,") when Mr. Dreads interrupts suddenly. "Nice to meet you." You blush a little.
She giggles again, introducing you. "This is Adam," she says, gesturing to Mr. Dreads. Then, hilariously, she says, "And this is Justin," of Beiber hair.
You hold back a laugh.
"Okay. Look." Hillary grabs on to you, and you do your best not to pull away. You're gonna smell like weed later. "I need a favor. Can you give me a favor? Can you drive us back to school? Please?"
Adam shakes his head. "Nah, we need a ride back to my house. You can come too," he says smiling, and your face feels hot again.
Okay, these kids are trouble, most definitely. It's probably a bad idea to take them back to Adam's house, you decide...despite how hot he is. You could take them back to school, which would be nice, but you don't know whether you want three high kids in your car. So you can just lie and say you have a doctor's appointment or something, and head back to school. You're super late anyway.
Do you:
