A/N: Just to let you guys know, this story is reaaalllyyyyy Western (but then again, most of my high school stories are) but hey, that’s why they call it fan “fiction” right? ;) Enjoy guys!

“Yo, yo, Yoojung!”

“You have got to stop with that pun, Chanyeol.”

My best friend laughed and proceeded to freeload off of the tray of chili cheese fries I was eating. Park Chanyeol and I have known each other since we were born, our families being close friends. We hardly ever hung out in the same crowd, him being more of the prepsters, Ivy league bound kids; me, with the jocks and party-goers. I liked talking to him a lot though, since he understood me at a much deeper level than, say, Sulli or Amber.

He took a seat across from me, then said, “So, tonight. You and Taekwoon going to Suho’s party?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “I dunno. Thought you were getting tired of that loud-mouth jock.”

Loud-mouth jock. Chanyeol always seemed to describe people in the most insulting but at the same accurate manner.

“Me? Getting tired of Taekwoon? What makes you say that?” I asked, albeit a bit sarcastically.

“Because you never date a guy more than four months,” Chanyeol stated, “and if I know my dates correctly, the four month mark is fast approaching.”

Chanyeol was right about this. With any guy, even a good looking guy like Taekwoon, I would always break off the relationship promptly before the four month mark. Simply because I could never handle the whole “100th day of being a couple” . Dear god.

I didn’t want to admit it, but with Taekwoon I was actually feeling things. I hated admitting my feelings and showing my emotions more than anyone else; the result of my parents being divorced and the whole abandonment issues thing. Maybe that was why I was so tough with Taekwoon. If I kept playing hard to get, he’d never get tired of chasing.

As if on cue, Taekwoon suddenly slides into the seat next to me, just as his arm slips around my waist. He pulled me closer to him and gives me a peck on the forehead.

“Taekwoon,” I snap, sliding my tray of chili fries closer to me, “I’m eating.”

“Babe,” he said, ignoring my chastising, “we’re going to Suho’s tonight, right?”

“Of course,” I said again. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Suho was one of the richest kids on campus, and his parties proved it every time. Taekwoon and I walked in together, hand in hand. He was wearing a muscle tank that accentuated his slim muscles and board shorts. I was wearing a crop top that revealed my midriff, along with high waisted shorts. Typical party attire.

Taekwoon and I passed a couple of kids making out, evaded the beer pong table, and finally found our usual crew standing by the keg in the kitchen.

“So,” I said as Amber handed me a beer, “what did we miss?”

“Well, Kibum was just telling us how he and some kids from across town totally smashed Vice Principal Han’s car,”