Living With The Bad Boy

Chapter 16 || Confrontations

▲ Chapter 16 || Confrontations ▲

If I had to pick one word to describe this situation, it would be 'awkward'. Turns out Blake does remember last night's events and that was shown crystal-clear through his body language and behaviour this morning.

Now here we were, sitting side-by-side in the exact spot where he tried to kiss me - eating coco puffs. Déjà vu, right?

I scoop up a spoon of coco puffs and shove it in my mouth, my mind running all over the place.

This is awkward. Should I say something? Why hasn't he touched his coco puffs? Am I really that off-putting? Why hasn't he insulted me yet? What should I do? Should I ask him about it?

"Sooo..." I drawl. At the sound of my voice, Blake's head snaps upwards and he looks at me with a scowl on his face.

"What?" he asks coldly.

"I know you remember what happened last night..." I state, watching him dubiously.

"Yeah," he grits out, "My friends and I went to a party, I came back home late, you helped me to bed. That's. It." He says the final two words with conviction in his voice, as if daring me to go against his recount.

I push away the sadness that crashed over me at his words and build up the courage to ask the simple four-word question that could easily give me no home for the next four weeks. I knew that if I didn't say it, however, the awkward tension between us would live with us until I go back home. "Why'd you kiss me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says blankly, though I could hear the anger and tension in his voice.

"Don't play dumb, Blake. You know what happened, I know what happened. We can't just never talk about it and ignore the-"

"Problem at hand?" he fills in, and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, "The problem at hand: I was drunk out of my mind and needed a distraction. That distraction was you. And so now, you don't understand that that was all there was to it, nor do you understand that it has been my biggest mistake yet."

I fall silent and look away. I knew that was the truth from the moment he kissed me, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when he confirmed the obvious. I was just like every other girl to him, and the fact that I even hoped he might be nice gave me the urge to hit my head against the kitchen countertop. Repeatedly.

"Jesus, why the fuck did I try to hookup with you?" he mutters to himself as he absentmindedly plays with his food, "I thought my standards were better than that."

I wanted to scream at him: To tell him to shut up and remind him who has been there for him when he's drunk out of his mind, who has treated him with full respect despite everything he's ever done to me.

Instead, I hastily push out of my seat, which results in a loud, scraping noise to echo throughout the house. Blake seems a little shocked at my reaction because when he looks at me his lips are parted open and his eyes are wide.

Without a word, I storm out of the room. Tears brim my eyes and a sob rises in my throat, though I force myself to hold it back.

It's no big deal; just my feelings.

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A frown forms on my face when I feel a presence take a seat beside me and my eyes meet Blake's. He nods his head at me awkwardly and I restrict myself from smiling goofily at him. I was still very angry with him, but his simple gesture of sitting beside me in history class made it very hard for me to act mad at him.