Squidward Is a F*ucking Mindreader

6. The Mystery Location

*Becca's POV*

I had come to the conclusion that this cottage was not mine. Because how much time could Daniel really have had to move the sink?

So after some searching and finally finding the tea. I brewed a cup and sat on the couch, mug in hand, trying to find some truth in my world of lies.

This was not my cottage. This was not my mug. I did not buy this tea. I have no jurisdiction over the art in the hallways. That fireplace does not have my usual vanilla scented wood in it. This fire was not mine, I should've known. The smell of actual fire was overwhelming. I pulled the collar of this large dress shirt up to cover my nose and mouth. I don't want to breathe in this musty ass fire scented smoke.

I sat, very still with my legs crossed. The optimal position for thinking about big things like where the fuck I am.

I don't know how long I sat there for but when a weird noise came from the door my head darted up. It was just Daniel.

If that's even his real name.

He was watching me. Looking at me like I was a fascinating fish in a tank at the aquarium. I looked back at him. I wanted to look all mysterious and dramatic so I slowly lifted the mug of tea up to my lips. Only to take a sip and find the bloody tea was cold.

Fucking cold ass stupid tea.

I spat it back out into the mug and placed it back on the table. I may have lost the battle but I haven't lost the war.

I looked back up at Daniel. He was silently laughing. Good God here he goes again.

"Please, Daniel, curb your laughter." I stuck a hand up, silencing him. I had closed my eyes but that was proving a bad idea because I couldn't read the social ques.

Shit.

I peeked an eye open and saw Daniel, silently laughing still. Damn.

"Daniel, I can feel you laughing with my fifth sense." I said, closing my eye up again. That should shut him up. But when I opened up my eye again he was still laughing. I put my hand down and opened my eyes, fed up with his constant laughing.

"Oh what now you Wally?" I whined. He wouldn't stop laughing and I just wanted to know where I was.

"How many senses do you have, Becca?" I frowned. Then it hit me. Oh my god I said fifth sense and there are five sense. I meant sixth sense. I was done.

I got up and walked through the hallways to the door. I flung it open and, ignoring the fact that I

A) was wearing only a large dress shirt and black short shorts.

B) had no idea where on earth I was, and by default, which way was home

C) could possibly have school

D) could be seen by someone who lives in this area.

Ok, so I was careless at this particular moment. Cold as fuck and very lost, but careless.

Or I was careless. Until I realised exactly where I was. This was the popular quarter. I was in the popular quarter. And it wasn't like I could go back to Daniel because he almost definitely broke into some unfortunate popular's cottage and now he's going to get arrested. I half ran through the cold morning air towards the outside of the popular quarter. I was hoping to get out of there unseen and unscathed.

But the Universe seemingly had other plans because all of a sudden and simultaneously every other door around me opened and, like a scene from a movie, the populars stepped out. Well, the female populars. And just like that the memories came racing back.

I went to a party last night and seemingly got hammered. I even spoke to someone. And that someone was Daniel.

So, if there was a party in the popular quarter and I'm there now, half dressed, surrounded by populars, who are each also half dressed, that makes the current situation an occurence that is simply a myth in the circles I run in. Which honestly just consist of me and whoever is unlucky enough to sit in front of me in a lesson and also sit next to their friend because I eavesdrop like a spy.

Anyway the myth. It had only been confirmed by one girl in a year above me, who claimed to have been walking through the popular quarter at exactly ten in the morning and had walked straight through it. I checked my watch. Ten O'clock on the dot. This was it.

The walk of shame.