More Than Anyone
"...so I don't get it. You're telling me that the reason why Jaran is hating me right now is because I didn't call her back?" Jesse leaned back in a chair, resting it against the closest wall.
Whitney rolled her eyes and sighed, "You're an idiot, you know that? Of course that's why. You told her that you'd call, but ya didn't you jerk." He lifted an eyebrow and put all four legs of the chair down, "Why would she get mad? Don't all girls know that when a guy says 'I'll call you later' means that we're not going to call?"
Picking up an unsharpened pencil from her desk, she threw it at him, hitting his arm and falling to the ground, "I have no idea why girls like you. You're impossible." Jesse chuckled and bent down to pick up the writing utensil, "Impossible to get their hands off me." He replied and gave another chuckle.
Whitney let out a scoff and found herself laughing soon after, "You sound like that goatman from Hercules." This time it was Jesse who rolled his eyes, "You and your weird Disney obsession."
"You and your weird obsession." Whitney muttered. "Say what? I'm not obsessed with anything." He replied. "Yes, you are." Whitney retorted, "You and your obsession with yourself."
He audibly let a gust of air spew out of his mouth, "Whatever. When the package is this pretty, you have to maintain the sexy."
"The sexy?" Whitney repeated, looking amused, "Are you calling yourself sexy?"
"For sure, for sure." Jesse nodded and laughed, "And you could be sexy yourself Miss Whit. Just lose the clothes."
"Hey..." Whitney mumbled, "I like my style of clothing."
"No." Jesse said, "Lose the clothes. Literally."
"You're sick." She laughed and grabbed the pencil out of his hand, only to throw it at him again, "So, are you going to call her, or what?" Whitney asked.
"Or what." He replied and rotated the pencil between his fingers. Whitney shook her head and turned around in her chair, facing her desk. "Whaaat?" Jesse said, "She's hot, but not my type."
"And by not your type means, she didn't put out?" She asked turning her head to face him.
"No." Jesse replied, "No. She's too smart for me. I don't wanna talk Shakespeare and she's the type who'd do that on a date."
"Well, did she talk Shakespeare on that first date?" Whitney said, turning her chair around to face him. Jesse opened his mouth, but said nothing. "Yeah, that's right." She said and scoffed, "You're gay. Be. A. Man. Stop acting like you're the best thing since sliced bread. Because you're not."
"Jealous, are we?" He retorted and raised an eyebrow, "I knew you had the hots for me."
Whitney laughed, "Not in this lifetime, kid."
Jesse sighed and looked up at the clock, "Anyway, I've gotta get going. Party at Rick's house. Gonna piss myself drunk." He stood up from his seat and Whitney did the same, "Don't call me, asking me to pick you up. Because I won't." She said, walking behind him. "Yeah, yeah. I'm too cool for ya anyway." He replied and opened her front door, "See ya later."
"Bye." Whitney muttered and shut the door as he walked out. But it opened again and Jesse's head peeked through it, "By the way, Whit..."
"What?" She asked, sounding tired.
"I took a huge dump in your bathroom. I didn't flush it. Just warning you." With that said, he quickly shut the door, leaving Whitney wide eyed and mouth agape. She scrunched up her nose and shivered, "Gross." She whispered.
Stopping by the kitchen, she grabbed a pair of red rubber gloves and slipped them on and made her way towards her bathroom, expecting the worse. She tapped open the door with her foot, and flipped on the switch from outside. Taking a deep breath, she walked in with her eyes closed and gradually opened one eye when she felt like she was standing in front of her toilet. Whitney stopped holding her breath and rolled her eyes, "That jerk." There was nothing in the toilet bowl, it was clean.
She roughly took the rubber gloves off and threw them in the sink. Just as they landed in the marble top sink, she heard paper crumble under the weight of the gloves. "Huh..." Whitney stepped closer to the sink and pushed the gloves off to the side and as she did so, a piece of paper appeared. Picking it up, she opened the note and laughed. Scribbled on a ripped piece of paper, in sloppy handwritting were the words "Now flush yourself, 'cause you're the shit!" She folded the note and put it in her back pocket and turned off the bathroom light and walked out.
Whitney yawned and stretched her arms high above her head. She glanced at her clock and sighed. 2 am; she'd been preparing for the major 200 point exam in her calculus class. Jesse was in the class with her as well, but he was at that party. Whitney drew her eyebrows together and shut her book, he hadn't called. He usually did, even if he said that he wouldn't. Shrugging, she pushed herself off her bed and made her way to the bathroom to get ready to go to bed.
Coming out of the bathroom, she thought about the note from earlier before and began to laugh. He really knew how to push her buttons. Since the 6th grade, they've been close. It started when Jesse was being pushed around by the 8th grade kids and Whitney happened to pass by. As a kid, she was never one to hold her tounge. So, with her harsh words, she scared off the 'big' kids and the two were inseperable since then.
But as they grew up together, their personalities changed. Whitney's once brave, confident interior changed once they hit junior high. With so many people she didn't know, she grew to be more quiet and introverted amongst the people she didn't know. The opposite happened with Jesse. To him, more people he didn't know meant more people he could make friends with. From a scrawny, frail, kid he grew to a medium built, tall, "chick-magnet." The two were in very different groups of friends, but they couldn't be more close.
Exhaling, Whitney came back from the bathroom and grabbed her cell phone off her desk to set the alarm clock. Afterwards, she threw it on the nightstand, next to her bed, and turned off the light. Shuffling back to her bed, she threw back her covers and collapsed onto her soft, plush mattress.
She shifted on her bed to make herself more comfortable and once she found that comfortable spot, her eyes closed and just as she was drifting off to sleep, her cell phone blared the tunes of the Friends theme song. She opened her eyes and sighed. Only one person had that ringtone.
Muttering a few words, she rolled right back out of bed and grabbed her phone.
"I know, I'll be there." She said quickly and shut off her phone.
Grabbing a black sweater out of her closet, she slipped it on and tied her hair into a ponytail. She picked up her phone and picked up her wallet from her backpack, which contained her driver's license, and silently walked out.