Luke

Chapter 21

It was Sunday morning. The sun shone through my window, casting a warm blanket of sunlight over me. I don’t remember what happened Saturday, mostly because I slept the whole day and kept my door barricaded with a kitchen chair. Like I said, I don’t like being disturbed.

I listened closely for noises in the house. It was quiet, indicating no one was there at the moment. I grabbed my phone and dialed Jay’s number, waiting for her to pick up.

“Hey bitch,” she greeted.

“Hi asshole,” I replied, smiling to myself. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch.”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s almost 1. Why?”

“Wanna get our do’s done?”

“Are you high or something?” she laughed.

“I just woke up, so basically yeah.”

“What do you even mean by ‘do’s done’?”

“Hair. You. Me. And a threesome with scissors.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Add an electric razor in there, too. Make it extra kinky.”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“No but seriously. I want to do your hair and I need to get mine done.”

“Your hair is fine.”

“I was told it was getting long.”

“Oh.”

“So can I come over?”

“Of course.”

“Sweet. Be there soon.”

“Bye-bye fuckboi.”

I hung up, chuckling to myself and swinging my legs off the bed and onto the wooden floor. I pulled open the drawer, remembering my bottle of pills were empty. I sighed and closed the drawer, the frame of the hidden picture hitting the back. I got up and stretched, not even bothering to change. Well, I needed a shirt, but I left on my pajama pants. Who could resist plaid? And they were fucking comfortable.

I pulled on a black sweatshirt, pulling the hood over my head and stuffing my cigarettes into its pocket, removing the chair with struggle and leaving the house. It was warm outside; I would say it was about 50 or so degrees. Not bad. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag and letting the smoke slowly escape my mouth. I passed down the street, looking down at the gravel sidewalk when someone passed by. They probably thought I was a thug.