instafamous ✩ lrh [DISCONTINUED]

02. who's daddy?

Instafamous
02. who's daddy?

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Between waking up at 6am the next morning and getting ready for school at exactly 6:05, I virtually had no time to check my phone. I just shut my alarm off, trudged my way down the stairs, ate breakfast, and slowly made my way back up again.

The clock read 6:30, giving me plenty enough time to procrastinate my life away until I had to start getting dressed. This was a normal routine for me. This 'routine' usually started off with me waking up on time, but procrastinating so much to the point that I may as well have stayed in bed for another half hour and it still wouldn't have made any difference.

"Did you wake up late?" Ashley asks me now, unlocking the passenger's side of the truck labelled Puzzywagon. What was once a drunken carpool mistake, she ended up keeping; much to the dismay of her super-strict parents.

I shake my head, climbing in and doing a double take to wave at the two other girls in the backseat. "Nah," I say. I then turn to look back, my eyes landing on both Chloe and Bailey; the other half of our little group. "Hey, you guys."

"Hi, Mrs Hemmings." Chloe says chirpily, staring down at her phone in amusement.

I roll my eyes, clicking my seatbelt on. "You too?"

"Can't help it. It's all they've been talking about," she tells me, gesturing between both Ashley and Bailey. As the pick-up speeds down the neighbourhood, she smiles at me. "Have you done the literature homework?"

"Oh, fuck." I sigh, leaning my head against the seat. I glance out of the window, not even attempting to think about all of the missed work I have to catch up on due to how I'm both incompetent and extraordinarily lazy. "No, I haven't."

"Wanna borrow mine?" she already has it out of her bag and as I release a small sigh of relief, I take it from her with a grateful smile.

"I owe you one."

The drive to school is quick and painless; painless because I have one less thing to worry about, and quick because Ashley is colourblind and can't tell a red stoplight from a green one. That's her excuse, at least. It almost always fails when she tries to explain it to a cop, though, main point being her unruly head of multicoloured hair.

"So, explain this to me," Bailey says, hands in her pockets as we walk down the hallway and to the library. The best thing about Tuesdays is that I have a free period first thing in the morning; again, one less thing to worry about. "The Luke thing."

"Oh, god," I sigh, as we take our seats furthest  away from the counter at the front. "Can we not go five minutes without talking about that?"

"No, we can't. Because we still haven't talked about it," she tells me, poking my arm.

"What is there to talk about?"

"Ashley told us you were going to delete your account last night," Bailey says, her voice a hushed tone once the woman at the desk raises her eyebrow at us.

I just shrug, taking the paperback book of Death of a Salesman out of my bag so it looks like I'm doing work. "So what if I was?"

"Have years of reading and crying over Fanfiction taught you nothing?" she asks me, in a scolding tone as she folds her arms. "This is a golden oppurtunity, Soph! Take it."

"What's so golden about it? So he spoke in a chat, big deal. I bet he didn't even mean to reply to that. He probably opened the DM, thought we were someone else-"