Thursday, July 7, 2016

So You Think You Can Dance Teaser

Alec, Tia, and Jacob were out there, cleaning up the remaining trash from our impromptu party. “Do you guys need help?” I asked.

“Nah. We’re almost through,” Tia replied.

I nodded, sipping my coffee and turning on my iPod. I enjoyed the music as everyone shuffled outside. It was a gorgeous day and we were spending all of it in the studio. They wanted to enjoy what part of it we could. Alice walked out, carrying a plate of a bagel, cream cheese and a banana. She sat down by herself at the table on the other side of the pool. I just looked at her briefly, nibbling on my bar. Jasper came out a few moments later, his face red. He turned to me, glaring at me angrily. “What the fuck is this?” he snapped.

I pulled out my ear buds, acting confused. “What?” I asked.

“You fucking stole my iPod,” he snarled, tugging my iPod from my hand.

“It’s my iPod,” I retorted. “It’s been in my room since I got here.”

“Bullshit,” Jasper hissed. “I saw you going through my bag yesterday during rehearsal. You swiped it then!”

“I was moving your bag to get my water bottle, you ass,” I bit back. “Your shit was everywhere. I did not take your fucking iPod.”

“This is mine,” Jasper growled. “I got it from my grandmother for Christmas. Alice was right. You are a bitch. Only thinking of yourself.”

“And you are a fucking idiot for listening to her,” I sneered. I took my iPod back and swiped it to open it. “And if this is your iPod, why is my name and email address on the iTunes account? Hmmm?”

“Bitch,” Jasper barked, turning on his heel and stomping away.


“Asshole!” I yelled back, grabbing my belongings and heading out to the van. Despite the fight being fake, my feelings were still hurt. I settled in the backseat, curling up and letting the tears flow. The combination of Jasper’s fake words and my mother’s real insults, I just needed a good cry. 

1 comment:

  1. O
    There's "drama" next chap between Jasper and Bella? Need to know why they staged a fake fight.

    ReplyDelete