Page 17 of Strong Side

I know it’s because he’s feeling sorry for me, but I can’t really find it in me to care.

“What sign are you?” he asks. The totally random question causes a small smile to tug at the corners of my lips.

“A Leo. Why?”

“Oh my god.” His light chuckle causes the frost that was forming over my heart due to my dad’s call to thaw. “Of course you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Clay.” He stares at me deadpan. “You are the leoist leo that ever leoed.”

He’s not wrong, but I’m not telling him that.

“Alright then, smartass. What are you?”

“I’m an Aquarius.” He crosses his arms and puffs his chest out with pride.

The scoff that leaves my lips could be heard a mile away. “Oh, I’m Rocky. I’m quiet and hard to read, and I never speak my feelings because god forbid people know what I’m thinking,” I mock.

He glares at me before relenting. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“That’s what I thought. Wait. If your an Aquarius when is your birthday?”

Rocky rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, next Saturday. The seventeenth.”

It just so happens I have exactly zero things planned next weekend. Not even a game or practice. How…serendipitous.

As if he can see the gears turning in my brain, he points his finger right at me. “Clay. Don’t you do anything or I swear—”

“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not going to do anything.”

I’m totally throwing him a party.

1. What Do You Mean - Justin Bieber

12

LET’S GO, BOYS!

Rockwell

He’s throwing me a party. I just know it.

If he is, the least I can do is show up looking good as fuck. I just got out of the shower after spending all day catching up on schoolwork and filming a couple of brand deals, then sending them off to the companies for approval. This is the most nerve-wracking part for me—what if they hate it?

The worst thing that could happen is that you’ll have to re-do it, dumbass.

I have the perfect outfit in mind for tonight, pairing my favorite Nirvana crop with some low-rise, baggy, old-school, skater jeans, and my Nike Air Force 1’s. Tofinish off the look I’m changing out my normal black hoop nose ring for gold to match my three thin gold chains and my signature earring.

Styling my hair like normal—having to use gel because of the Florida humidity—I stop in front of my full-length mirror, and if I do say so ??myself… I look fucking hot. I take a picture to upload to Instagram for my birthday with the caption:

“I’m feeling a lot older than 22, but here’s to another trip around the sun.”

Not even two minutes after posting, Clay’s profile pops up with a notification. I open it and groan.

“You can take a trip around your favorite Leo since we’re ruled by the sun, Baby. *winking emoji*”

I don’t fight the smile that forms as I stare down at my phone. I can’t explain the rage I felt when Clay’s dad talked to him on the phone the way he was. Ididn’t give a flying fuck about what he had to say about me. It’s the normal “Oh, he’s poor, a bad influence, hasn’t played volleyball since he could walk” story. Clay was shutting down, and I wasn’t about to see the light that shines in that boy fade because of his piece of shit father.

---