Brittney Matthews had a big problem. A big, Asian, Mackenzie Zales sized problem that plunged itself into her mind like Cameron Van Buren plunges herself onto any old wine aged dick she could get.
She had a fucking crush, alright? It wasn’t that big of a deal.
Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal how cute Mackenzie Zales was when something good happened to her, or how hot Mackenzie Zales was when she got angry and evil villain-y. They’ve been best friends for the better half of a decade, and Brittany would rather get tongue-tied with Deandra’s ass after her $57 lunch than admit that her feelings were a little bit more than platonic for Mackenzie. At least, she wouldn’t admit them out loud.
“Trisha, whaaaat theeee fuuuuucckkk is taking those drinks so long?” Mackenzie groaned tiredly. After a day of ass-kicking and shitting on Shay Van Buren’s dreams, the cheerleading squad was super tired. So they packed their bags and headed towards the large Matthews’ house.
“Oh, sorry Mackenzie. I was just talking to Trisha 2,” Trisha replies. “She says that the Kremlin is beautiful in Denmark,”
Brittany was lazily swimming in her pool, half-heartedly listening to the conversation at hand. It wasn’t worth the hassle, not when her mind was running a mile a minute on how utterly hot Zales looked in her swimsuit.
Damn, feelings are annoying.
“Britt, do you wanna go with us later?” Mackenzie calls to her. Wait, what were they talking about?
“Umm.. what the fuck was the question again?”
“Do you wanna go shopping with us? At around 7:00 today?” Trisha repeated.
‘Why not?’ Brittany thought. ‘What could go wrong?’
A lot of things. A lot of things can go wrong.
“And then I told Shay to suck her grandfather’s old rickety cock!” Mackenzie laughs aloud, pulling along her two friends along throughout the mall. All three of them had piles upon piles of bags from every single store they could get into. Trisha seemed to have a plethora of Dr Seuss books while Mackenzie was carrying loads of gossip magazines and designer clothes.
Suddenly, all trio came to a halt as Mackenzie motioned them to stop.
“What the fuck is up, Zales?” Brittany asked, annoyed.
“Shut it, Brittany. Didn’t you see that hot piece of ass that just walked by us?” Mackenzie barks, pointing to a tall, lean teenager with short brown hair.
“Oh my god. That’s Jamie Smithersonsmith, a quarterback for Mellington high,” Trisha informs. She’s hyperventilating a little bit, ready to spill more about the new face, when Mackenzie cuts her off.
“Well he’s about to be a quarterback to my body real soon, I’ll tell you that.” She exclaims dreamily. Mackenzie hands her bags of clothes to Brittany, gives a small wave goodbye, and sets out to fuck Jamie Smithersonsmith near the closest janitor’s closet they can find. As she goes, Brittany can feel her heart squeeze in very uncomfortable waves.
Damn, who knew that jealousy could hurt that much.
The next day, Mackenzie comes to school with hickeys all over her neck.
Brittany officially hates feelings. She absolutely loathes it. Who the actual fuck needs it? 5 years ago, she had no ill feelings towards any of Mackenzie’s one night stands, but now? Now she just wants to let off steam, by ripping off Rachel Tice’s gross Roly Poly eating tongue out her mouth and using it as a stress ball every single time she looks at her best friend. Feelings are absolute bullshit.
“What’s up, Britt? You seem out of it.” Mackenzie says, shoving books in her locker.
“None of your fucking business, Zales.”
“Jeez, what got you off the wrong side of the bed? Did Than talk to you early this morning or something?”
“Don’t fucking worry about it!” Brittany yells, incredibly pissed off. Goddamn, what is she even pissed off about? She didn’t think emotions were this enabling.
“Calm your fucking uterus, Brittany! I was just asking!” Mackenzie yells back. They’re about to get into an argument, it's so clear. Brittany is so close to fucking exploding and vomiting all the lovesick thoughts she’s been having about Mackenzie, and how she should just date her, and how-
“Hey, guys! Sorry I was late. Did I miss anything?” Trisha, ever the physical embodiment of being saved by the bell, happily greets.
“No, you didn’t miss anything,” Brittany answers, speeding to her 5th period.
It’s dark outside when Brittany hears a knock at her door.
“Mom, I don’t want any fucking croutons!”
There’s a silence, and then Brittany’s mom quietly states “Mackenzie’s here”.
Shit. Oh, fucking shit. She’s not ready for this, not ready for her heart to beat so loudly it combust in her chest. There is nothing in the entire universe that can prepare her in confronting her crush. It was different when Trisha was here, but now? Now, it’s personal.
“I’m coming in, Britt” It’s Mackenzie. Shit. Oh, fucking shit. She isn’t prepared. She’s killed 4 killer mercenaries out to get her blood once, but she isn’t ready for this. Brittany hides underneath her blankets, hoping that does something.
The door opens. She hears it open, and Brittany can only hold her breath. She can’t stand the noise that multiplies every single step that Mackenzie moves.
“Woooooow, where the fuck could you be, Britt? Not this large, human-shaped dent in your fucking blankets.”
“What do you want, Zales?” Brittany grumbles. It’s muffled by the layers of fabric walls separating them.
“Um, I don’t know, an explanation on why you seem more bitchy than usual today? As far as I can tell, I didn’t explode your fucking car again.” Mackenzie huffs, trying to push the fabrics off Brittany.
“You wanna know the fucking truth?”
“YES, I WANT TO KNOW THE FUCKING TRUTH. I WANNA KNOW IF I DID SOME SHIT TO YOU”
“THE FUCKING TRUTH?”
“YES, THE FUCKING TRUTH!”
“THE FUCKING TRUTH IS THAT I LIKE YOUR CRUSTY ASS AND I CAN’T STAND THE IDEA THAT YOU’RE FUCKING ANOTHER PERSON!”
So that was her emotional breakdown. Brittany lasted much longer than even she thought. Well, that's the end of that friendship.
“Why didn’t you say so, Britt?” Mackenzie murmurs, sounding uncharacteristically gentle. She holds Brittany’s hand.
“I don’t know, because you aren’t fucking gay?” Brittany harshly snarks.
“Brittany, could you ever fucking imagine that maybe, just maybe, I like you too?” Mackenzie bites back. That…was not a possibility she thought of. Huh.
“Well, you fucked a guy! I don’t know if you were dating him or not!”
“HE WAS JUST HOT, BRITTANY. I ACTUALLY FUCKING LIKE YOU!”
“HOW, IN THE FUCKING NAME OF TRISTAN MCKIE, AM I SUPPOSE TO KNOW THAT YOU DIDN’T LIKE YOUR ONE NIGHT STAND?”
“I DON’T KNOW, I THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY OBVIOUS I FUCKING LIKE YOU”
Damn, feelings are such a bitch.
“Sooooooooo...” Mackenzie sighs heavily.
“So fucking what?”
“So do you wanna be my fucking girlfriend now, or are we gonna do this weird will we won’t we relationship?”
Brittany smiles, getting up from her bed covers, and leans in to kiss Mackenzie.
“Yes, I’ll be your fucking girlfriend,”