Chapter 14 || Not Crazy Just Your Best Friend

892K 28.3K 8.5K
                                    

Chapter 14 || Okay, Yoda

"He's so annoying though," Elle complains, "Like, he's sweet, I get it, but god he just doesn't turn off. He's like one of those annoying toys at the supermarket that once they get going, they start bloody singing Hi-5 and demanding attention from anyone."

"He's just very hyper."

"Yeah, he damn is," Elle growls under her breath, "He wouldn't stop flirting with me."

"I think he's just being playful. He is like that to me but I don't think he means it," I state, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Bad. I have the worst headache and can actually taste the sticky vomit in my mouth." She mutters, and I cringe.

"'Bad' was fine, but thank you for going the extra mile and giving me the details," I reply, my nose wrinkled in distaste, "Poor baby. Need a bucket?"

"A bucket need I," she hums absentmindedly.

"Okay, Yoda," I force myself off the bed. I head over to the kitchen and return minutes later with a bucket in hand. I hand her the bucket and flop back on the bed.

After finding Elle wasted last night, I drove the two of us home and called Elle's mom to say that Elle was sleeping over. I then dragged Elle up the stairs and the two of us dropped on my bed, instantly falling asleep. It was a big night for the both of us, meaning that we both woke up the next morning at 11am. Crazy!

We hear a knock at the door, "Yes?" I call, and Marisa enters the room with a tray of crackers, cut up salami, cubes of cheese, two cups of orange juice, and other little snacks.

"Hey girls, how are you feeling?" she asks with a sly smile.

A quality that I've noticed in Blake's parents is that they're very lenient. They had no problem with Elle and I arriving late at night from a party. In fact, Marisa was quite excited, asking me to dish her out on all the 'goss'. She says Blake never likes talking about his life, so it's nice having us around.

"Great, thank you Marisa," I reply gratefully, and she sets the tray on our laps.

"No worries honey. You girls are so sweet," she beams, "What have you been up to?"

"We've just been lying around and chatting. And thank you for the snacks. You rock, Mrs Parker."

Marisa laughs at Elle, "It's okay. You girls have fun," she turns to walk away, but hesitates in her steps and turns back to us. "Actually, I just have one quick question. I know it's an odd question, but I didn't really know who to ask and I really need to know because Blake doesn't like opening up to Jay or I."

"Shoot."

"What is Blake like? Is he... Is he heading down the right path? You can be honest with me. Actually, please be honest with me. I just really need to know as a mother. He never tells me what he's up to."

Elle and I look at each other and I hesitate on telling her, "Um. I mean, he isn't the nicest person, but I do think he's responsible. He's not completely careless and silly. He's street smart, I guess."

"So he does drugs and drinks alcohol, yes?"

"Well-"

"Its okay if he does. I mean, obviously not drugs but alcohol I can tolerate, as long as he isn't stupid at the parties and stuff. You know how boys can be when they're with their friends. I don't want him to end up like- I mean, I just don't want him to go down the wrong track."

I bite down on my lower lip; I really didn't want to dob Blake in on his doings. He was a little wild, I admit, though I could truthfully admit that he wasn't an idiot. Mean? Sure. Wild? Totally. But careless? Not quite. His grades were decent, too, from what I've noticed over the weeks. "I don't think you have anything to worry about in that field. He's responsible." I assure her.

She sighs before nodding her head, "Yeah. I know I haven't been the most perfect mother, but I do care about Blake and I do try to reach out to him, but ever since his b-" She cuts herself short from her sentence, before shaking her head. "Um, never mind. You guys have fun. Elle, stay as long as you like, and get well soon."

"Thank you." We smile, and she leaves the room.

▲ ▲ ▲

Living With The Bad BoyWhere stories live. Discover now