17 Made Mistakes

⋆12༄ Remember?

Hi everyone. How are you today? I've been inactive for a week pretty much but that's because I was SO SO tired omg. I'm back though, hopefully with another good update. Thank you for letting me live my life and take my time with this book. Love you ♡

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'Slut' — four giant, neon-pink letters sloppily sprayed on my ceiling, now seeming dry, but they must've been dripping before as my duvet is marked with paint.

There is also a few smashed photo frames placed on my bed, the glass shattered all over the floor, its tiny pieces crunch under my soles as I step inside.

"Who did this?" Mason asks, following after me, staring down at the pictures spread across my duvet.

"I don't know," I respond, grasping one photograph into my trembling fingers. Alike the other snapshots, this one is destroyed, my face violently pierced through, most likely with scissors.

"You said that you might know the reason why someone did this," he points out, tilting his head upwards, examining the giant vulgarism sprayed across my ceiling. "What is it then?" he asks, retrieving his cobalt-blue eyes to me.

Before I give him an answer I take a deep breath and ponder for a minute. If I hadn't gone to that party of Will's, I would've been certain that it was Cassie and Rayna trying to scare me but now, after what I'd done, the list of suspects gets quite longer.

Considering I pushed Avery and straddled Will right in front of her, it's possible that she's the one behind this terrifying act. However, the word on the ceiling makes me doubt my thoughts because there were so many people at that party, and they all saw me wear my provocative outfit. Anyone could be responsible for this. I mean, not everyone knows my address but asking around isn't a problem and someone, even Will, could gladly give it away.

Having processed the idiocity behind my rebelious show from that night I peer over at Mason, my throat is tight. "Well," I begin, my cheeks feel hot. "I might have turned up at someone's party looking very much like a Playboy bunny."

"Woah." Mason gapes at me, shocked, but then his cheerful laughter cuts through the air. "You're absolutely insane," he chortles, tears glisten in the cornes of his blue eyes. "Whose party was it?"

"Will's," I mutter under my breath, embarrassed.

"Wait, as in that Will? The one you just told me about?" He stares at me, amused, but equally shocked.

"Yeah, and I kinda straddled him in front of everyone just to make him regret some stuff," I confess, feeling oddly comfortable with telling him the truth because unlike Will, Mason is very easy to talk to.

"I mean—" he wants to say something, but then someone's hurried steps can be heard, and within seconds my mother appears in my room.

"Are you pleased with yourself?" she hisses, her words dripping with venom.

"Can we talk some—" I rush to say that we should have this conversation elsewhere, but I'm too slow to make her halt the thoughts that rapidly come out her mouth.

"I told you not to wear the absurd that you blew my hard-earned money on," she growls, her eyes narrowed. "And now someone broke into our house just to acknowledge you with the way you looked," she spits in an angry tone, seeming completely oblivious to Mason's presence.

"Like I'm not aware of it!" I shout, feeling my chest become heavy from the sudden irritation that courses through my veins. "It is my room that is ruined, not yours."

"But it's still a part of my and your father's house therefore, I expect you to paint your ceiling and pay for the new door lock that will have to be installed in the morning," she demands assertively.