Rough Draft Short Story

“Here.” He said, handing me the white envelope that remain sealed with a small blue sticker that read sixteen on it. I gape at the letter, then peer back up into twinkling mossy green eyes that belonged to no one other than Cameron Anderson, the dirty blonde headed boy who girls drooled over and fantasized about during their free time. Undoubtedly they were all only after him for his daddy’s wealth, some possibly his looks. Simply Cameron was the captain of the well respected baseball team who most likely has the intelligence of a 5 year old and in no way was I going to be dragged into the feminine world of raging hormones over this guy, even if he is rather good looking, I unashamedly admit to myself.
“Thanks, but no thanks, I have plans.”

Striding over towards her I put an end to the poor books misery.
“Take it easy before you break something.” I warn her as I slide my backpack onto the ground and begin stuffing it with my overly heavy and rarely used books, allowing space for her to now put her beaten up Geometry book.
“Well these lockers are so damn small,” She complains. “You wouldn’t even be able to stuff a dwarf in here.” She gestures at the tiny green locker that was no more than six inches wide. “That’s not very nice.” I tell her and she shrugs.
“I’m not a very nice person.” She admits honestly and I shake my head at her and hold the invention Cameron had just given me under her nose.
“Cameron gave you an invitation?” She asks snatching the white paper from my hand. “That’s stupid of him to give you an invite, there's no doubt that you’re not going to go.” She states matter of factly and I snatch the invite back from her greedy hands.
“I’m not.” I simply

I bet he does a lot of ‘fun” things with a lot of different girls.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” she scorns playfully. “Besides, Cameron’s a virgin.” She says and I can’t help the hyena laughter that bursts from me, not caring that heads turn in our direction.
What she has just said has me howling and has her now seriously scowling at me. “It’s not funny Gabriella, he seriously is,” she says and by her deadpan expression I tell that she’s not lying and I struggle to retain my composure, but it’s just too hard for me to comprehend. Cameron, a virgin? Ha! If he’s a virgin, I’m fucking Queen Elizabeth II I snort to myself.
“If he actually is a virgin,” which I highly doubt. “Why isn’t he desperately trying to get into other girls pants like he’s suppose to?”
“Who says he’s suppose to? Not all guys are like that Gabriella.” She retorts and I give her an exasperated eye roll. “There maybe guys who aren’t like that Sophia, but I don’t have time to play Where’s Waldo with them.” I complain, rubbing my now throbbing temples at the thought of guys who take what they want from you and then kick you out of their moving car, leaving you a puddle of emotions and