"Malik sure as hell smokes a lot, so either he'll die of lung cancer, or from being such a prick."
Matthew Hill let out a snort, shaking his head. "God, you sure can be a bitch at times."
The corners of my lips curled into a smile. "That's my specialty."
Matthew was gay. The actual gay, not the term some annoying ass people use. And also, he was my best friend who seemed to know more about me then I knew about myself, and if that's not what a best friend is, then enlighten me.
My eyes glanced back to where Zayn was, and to my greatest relief, he wasn't there. Since ninth grade, I've always hated him and his perfectly chiseled jaw and the way he always looked mysterious, when really, he wasn't. You see, I didn't want to despise him, he made me want to. It went from pulling on my hair, from laughing at the way I'd speak a different language in Spanish 1. I mean, Jesus Christ, I could never catch a break from him. To make things even worse, he rated me. A rating in high school is serious business. Basically mostly all the guys judge the way you look in a large book that could be mistaken as a dictionary. For example; Does she have an ass? Or, how big his her boobs? You could either get a A, which is 'damn, I'd tap that.' or a B, 'don't touch her because she's ugly as fuck."
Word got around that Zayn Malik rated me a B. I was hurt, yeah, but not as much as I wanted revenge. And I did that. Matthew helped me put large amounts of mud in Zayn's locker, which ended up being Charlie Weldon's, a stupid jock. I felt guilty until I realized that he rated Barbara Calvin a B. So, I guess she should thank me for my tactics.
Matthew has never in his life rated a girl before. That has to do with the fact that, 1) he's gay. and 2) he's not a dick like the rest of the male population.
"Uh, Lillian? You there?" I averted my eyes back to Matthew, and heaved out a sigh.
"I wish I wasn't. Let's go."
My mother wasn't the hovering type. If I had a friend over, she wouldn't mind. But it's my father you have to look out for, and with my luck, my dad was home and my mom? God only knows.
"What's Matthew doing here?" His deep, intimidating voice said as we walked through the doors. Matthew usually isn't frightened of anything, but if it's my dad, he'd go running for the hills.
"I, uh, I was-"
"I, uh, want you, uh, out of my house. My daughter and I have something to discuss."
"Do you have to be so rude?" I budded in with an eye roll, which really didn't help the situation.
Dad shot me death glare and looked back to Matthew.
"I do not tolerate gays in my household."
Matthew scoffed, surprising my father and I. "Mr. Smith, I would like you to be quiet and let me speak on my behalf for five seconds. Firsts things first, I will not have assholes like yourself, judge the way I do things, or judge the gender I like. I like penis and I don't give a fuck what you think. Don't want me in your house? Fine, I'll stand outside."
My dad at this point, was furious. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"
Matt threw his arms up, "Fine by me. You know, my mother works at anger management, you should go see her."
Matt slammed the door behind him, leaving me completely helpless now.
Dad turned to me and ran a hand down his face in frustration. "I do not want you seeing that boy anymore."
For some reason, I felt confident. "That 'boy' is the only actual friend I have."
He chucked as if I were joking, "That's bullshit and you know it."
I wish it was. Oh, I wish it was.