"Dude!"

"What?"

"You're so fucking whipped, man! Wa-tchh!"

"I'm not--"

"Leave him alone, Ty."

Tyson Ness smirked and stuck his middle finger up at Cole Meltzer who had just reprimanded him. But Ty couldn't fucking help it! Bryan was going on a double fucking date! With Hannah, who was hot but practically braindead and her loser ginger boyfriend Aaron Chester who played in band. Not that Bryan's girlfriend was any better. She was Virgin Mary Barbie, accessories not included. Bryan could do soo much better.

Tyson was the king of girl-scoping, after all. It was like a gift. Sure, he'd only ever actually had sex four times and three of them were with his ex Danielle, and the other was with his sister's slutty drunk friend ... but he knew what he was talking about. And seriously, it was more touch than Cole and Bryan had gotten. Man, they were all fucking losers.

Minus him.

"Whatever, man. Let me ask you this. Are you actually looking forward to this 'double date'?"

Bryan rolled his eyes. "Well, no, but --"

"Are you going to get seriously fucking laid if you do?"

Bryan's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Right. Of course not. So you don't want to do it and you're not getting a good fuck out of the deal. So? You're whipped," Tyson finished smugly. "Deal."

Cole was promptly ignoring everything that came out of Tyson's mouth. Like usual. "It might be all right. Give it a chance. I've talked to Aaron in English, he seems all right."

"He's a ginger freak," Tyson cackled. "Who probably isn't getting any touch either."

"Do you know who's not getting any touch right now?" Bryan spoke up irritably. Ty had been his friend since like, preschool but fuck if he didn't get sick of the stupid boy sometimes. "You. Know why? Because you couldn't stop slapping other girls asses when you were with Danielle. So go, I don't know, fuck yourself or something."

Ty grinned, although the Danielle comment was true and it kind of hurt. As much as Tyson Ness could be hurt. He'd never cheated on Danielle in the six months they had dated but he was a notorious flirt and the uber-serious, uber-artist Danielle couldn't handle that. So she had dumped his ass, did some crazy ass sculpture about like disappointment and shit and won a local art show for it and got like, a grand. And he'd gotten dick. Literally. His own. He jacked off a lot after that.

Good times.

"I'm just saying, tell Diane no. What she gonna do? Dump you?" That'd be sweet. Maybe then Bryan would stop being so fucking lame.

"No, but apparently Hannah was all stoked about it, so..." Bryan shrugged. "It's just one night. I'm not gonna die."

"But it's more than that," Ty pressed and Cole groaned. Cole was the epitome of a good boy. Great grades, went to church, came home in time for curfew-- but he was not a saint. Even he couldn't deal with Ty without letting out some groans of displeasure. "It's your fucking manhood at stake!"

"Somehow, I'm pretty sure it'll be fine."

"Your manhood, dude."

"Shut up, Tyson."

***

"Mmm--"

"--Terrence....!"

This exchange of murmers and moans was occuring between Stacey and Terrence, who were getting pretty hot and heavy in Stacey's bedroom. Stacey's parents were both attorneys (they had met in Law school; how sickeningly sweet was that?) who had a practice that kept them very, very busy. They loved their daughter, went and saw her school plays and shit but the bottom line was, she got a lot of time to herself. And time to herself equalled time with Terrence. And time with Terrence equalled sex. Stacey hated Math, but that was a pretty sweet equation.

Terrence let his fingers trail down Stacey's bare torso, as he worked on her neck, guarenteeing her a hickey for tomorrow. His fingers then backtracked to her bra clasp, and he was struggling with that when Stacey's phone burst into Katy Perry's 'Hot n Cold'. Phone call. Fuck.

"Don't answer that," he begged, trying to entice her into ignoring her phone with a generous slew of kisses down her neck.

"Diane said she'd call," Stacey protested, but her eyes were still closed.

"Diane will understand," Terrence tried, although they both knew Diane was the poster-girl for virgin. Ergo, would not understand. Plus, Diane would undoubtedly leave a voice-message that would be rambly and ridiculous and not get to the point forever.

"Shit," she muttered, pushing Terrence off of her, who rolled to the side with a roll of his eyes and oh yeah, a boner. She slid her bra-strap up and swept her hair to one side as she took a breath and then checked Caller-ID. Sure enough, Diane.

"Hey," Stacey greeted her friend, falling back into her bed beside Terrence who looked more than a little frustrated.

"Hey, Stace," Diane chirped. "What are you doing?"

She had to giggle a bit at that. "I'm not doing anything. Anymore. So what's up?"

"Nothing really. Just kinda bored. Wanted to talk. You know!"

Stacey did know -- they were the type of friends who could talk on the phone for hours at end without getting bored of it. Terrence, however, who could hear this stifled a groan into his pillow. He was about to get blue balls because Diane was 'just kinda bored'? He loved Diane like a sister, he did, but seriously. Did him and Seth Finnegan talk on the phone for hours? Nooo. Maybe it had to do with testosterone/estrogen levels.

Their conversation lasted a few more minutes before Stacey cut it short, grinning at Terrence when she hung up. "You pissed at me?"

"No," he said truthfully. "Though that wasn't the nicest thing you've ever done..."

Of course he wasn't mad. They'd been dating since freshman year and honestly, she didn't want to say she had him wrapped around her finger ... but kind of. Their relationship was steady and predictable. Only thing that really shook it up was occasionally some tips from Cosmo but they usually just defaulted to missionary anyway.

But they were cool with were both pretty and preppy and oh so Abercrombie and total shoo ins for cutest couple in the yearbook (don't tell Di and Bry though). Maybe they'd be Prom Queen and King. They'd get married and have children and live a perfect suburban life. Uh huh. Awesome.

But for now, Stacey was on birth control.

Because to be a teenage mom was such a cliche. Hello, Juno? Save the Last Dance? Saved? All decent movies that performed well in the box office, but like she said: cliche. And Stacey McChristenson was so not a cliche. Okay, except for the part where she was but whatever, this was her life and she'd script it however she wanted.

***

Chloe was so fucked. So ludicrously beyond fucked. Actually, she wished she was getting fucked. By Mr. Keller. Which is why she was fucked.

GOD What was her deal? She was Chloe freaking Williams, Most Likely to Succeed (she'd mostly likely win that). Everything about her was impeccable. Her grades, her appearance. Okay, that was it but still. And now she was nursing such a school girl crush. Ugh.

"Everything okay?" Mr. Keller said kindly, coming back to his desk from his filing cabinet. He had been organizing some crap when she'd barged in wanting to talk about Yearbook. Of course, she didn't mind watching him while she worked, but ...

"It's all good," she answered cooly, because of course, she was always calm and collected. On the outside, at least. Inside, she was prone to spaz-attacks. Lots of them.

"So, you wanted to talk Yearbook?" Why was his voice so distractingly sexy? It was just unfair. And he was wearing a casual shirt that highlighted his impressive biceps every time he grabbed something and ughh. She was melting.

"Yeah. I need to start putting a team together. I was thinking maybe eight of us. Not too many so it just becomes a big joke, but enough that everything will be adequately covered. That sound okay?"

"Sure," he said agreeably. "You take the reins here. I'm basically just along for the ride. You suggest, I approve. Sound good?" He grinned, all adorable and she completely resented him for it. Oh, and loved.

They talked about other boring Yearbook crap for a while when Chloe finally got up. Shit. It was already four. "I so need a caffeine fix," she muttered, scooping up her bag which held her, oh, entire life in it. She needed caffeine once every four hours or she started to get a little loopy. "Thanks, Mr. Keller."

"You going out for coffee? Because if you want some company, I could use a pick-me up."

Chloe froze. Not just mentally, but physically too. Rooted to her spot, face blank. Coffee? Outside school? With the most attractive man this side of the hemisphere who also happened to be a teacher and wildly off limits? She wanted to go with him for coffee so badly that it literally clawed at her to accept. She couldn't ever recall wanting something more.

Chloe smiled sweetly. "Sorry, I have to pick some up for my mom. Maybe another day?"

"Sure, sure. All right, go spoil your mom. She's lucky to have you."

"Uh huh," she muttered disinterestedly as she left. Chloe generally liked herself. Hell, she generally fucking loved herself. She was kick ass and in charge and what was not to love? Honestly.

But right now, she fucking hated herself.