Semua Bab When Best Friends Kiss: Bab 91 - Bab 100

(TODD’S POV) The day could not come to an end faster. When I heard the final bell, I was out of class before anyone could even get out of their seats. I was at my locker when someone tapped my shoulder lightly. I turned to see Laurel, a skeptical look on his face. “Hey bro,” I told him, sparing him a glance as I quickly arranged my books in my locker. “Don’t ‘hey bro’ me,” Laurel muttered in a grumble, and I knew he was about to throw an attitude. “What is wrong, Laurel?” I asked with a sigh as I shut the locker door. “I don’t know, you tell me,” Laurel accused, and he blocked me when I tried to walk away. I sighed again, this time running my fingers through my hair. “I really need to be somewhere, so I need you to speak up. What’s wrong? Did something happen?” I asked with genuine curiosity. Laurel rolled his eyes. “Where exactly are you going?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest dramatically. “Do you have a new team you’re playing for? Or just a new best frie

(RORY’S POV) I looked up in confusion at the speakers, as if they were supposed to explain why I was wanted at the principal’s office. Then I looked at Todd’s face—he looked confused as well, and then he started coming toward me. “Is everything okay?” Jason asked, making me turn my focus back to him. He looked as confused as I was about the announcement. “I don’t know,” I said truthfully, just as Todd made his way to us. “Rory, is everything okay?” he asked me, and I realized he wasn’t talking about the announcement because he was looking from me to Jason. “Hey, Todd,” Jason greeted, but Todd simply glared at him in response. I cleared my throat as the air around us seemed to thicken with tension. “I’ll come around tomorrow,” I said to Jason, and he tore his gaze away from Todd, his eyes widening with joy as a smile broke on his lips. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have my number—you can text me,” he said. “Okay,” I said. Jason flashed another bright smile at me. “Than

(RORY’S POV) At Daisyland High, “sanitation duty” was a punishment crafted for a student body accustomed to gilded ceilings and marble hallways. It was honestly less about hard labor and more about symbolic inconvenience—a gentle reminder that privilege didn’t make you above the rules, seeing as most of us who attended the school were privileged kids. You’d never see a trust-fund heir scrubbing toilets. Instead, offenders were tasked with duties that were monotonous, slightly dusty, and deeply boring. Think organizing the vast archives in the library’s genealogy section (a snore-fest of leather-bound yearbooks), polishing the already-gleaming brass plaques on donor walls, or meticulously sorting recycling in the eco-pavilion—a task so tedious it was considered a true test of character. Todd’s current sentence, however, was a cut above the usual. His offense had earned him a private session. He’d been assigned to “detail” the school’s classic car collection, housed in a private, clima

(RORY’S POV) The moment I get home, I will be sure to look into the mirror and say, “Who are you and what have you done to Rory?” Because honestly, I don’t know if this is me! I don’t think so! Here I am, in this car that we’re not supposed to be in, on school property, making out intensely with the love of my life! Then there’s that voice that we can both hear, calling and asking if anyone is there! Normal Rory would be scared, but here I am, biting my lip to suppress the laughter building up inside me. Todd is grinning too, and even though I could feel our hearts pounding so fast, it all felt very exciting to me. “Is anyone there?!” the voice called for the third time, and then it was followed by the sound of low whistling and footsteps as the caller walked away. When we could not hear him clearly anymore, we looked at each other and then burst into laughter before Todd pressed a kiss to my chin and my forehead. I got off his lap and just sat beside him, leaving my le

(RORY’S POV) The car had been silent for some minutes and it was making me really nervous. My fingers held each other, clasped tightly in my lap. I was not sure what to do or what to say—was I supposed to initiate the conversation first? I stole a glance at Martha; she had her face focused on the road, almost as if I was not even present in the car with her. Then she turned, and I looked away. The car was silent for about five minutes before she cleared her throat. I knew she was about to start talking to me. “You know that I have always liked you, Rory. Adored, maybe even loved… you’re a smart, kind, sweet girl,” she began. To be honest, I was not expecting the conversation to begin that way—not with how Martha had been looking so displeased. I cleared my throat and nodded my head, still not sure of what to say, and then I settled on: “Thank you, Ma.” “You’re welcome,” she said, glancing at me with a light smile that did not look forced. “You see, I know that the past two w