Sweetheart

Chapter 8 - No Control

I'm sorry. Please don't lynch me guys. Pfft...I say that like people actually read this story and want an update xD thanks for sticking with my crappy novel if you're that 1% that is still reading. I'm not giving up on this story...I'm literally just too lazy to write /slaps self/. But yeah, enjoy.

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My entire body went rigid and I slowly let my gaze creep just past the screen of the phone. A nervous chill tickled at my spine and it was only then that I realised I'd been holding my breath.

"Riley...Riley? Is anybody home?" said Matt, pretending to knock on my forehead.

I shook myself out of the daze and faked a smile. "Stop it!" I slapped his hand away and he let his mouth drop open, feigning shock. I laughed and shoved one of the cushions into his face. "Listen, I'm just going to go and get something from my room. Be back in a minute!" I called, dropping my piece of pizza back into the cardboard box.

"Stop trying to get out of being sociable!" came Kian's voice, but he had his hands full with beer bottles and couldn't really stop me.

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I collapsed onto my bed, my hands shaking uncontrollably. How does he know? Am I just making things obvious to him or is there something weird about him?

I take a deep breath and finally lift the screen to my face, positioning my hands across the keypad.

'How do you even know that?;P'

I send it, trying to sound relaxed so that he doesn't think I'm suspicious of his actions. I shut my eyes momentarily and almost fall off of the bed when my phone dings.

Scrambling towards it, my eyes scan over the letters that somehow form a sentence.

'Duh, I'm the pizza delivery guy. You're welcome by the way. Me and Kian met at a party a few weeks ago. I delivered him pizza and he insisted I come in for a drink.'

I guess that explained how he knew where we lived. But why hadn't he said that earlier? Maybe I'm just thinking too much into this.

I leave my phone on the bed and retreat back to the living room where Kian and his friends are playing beer pong. Or trying to at least. I rolled my eyes and went to join in as Kian waved me over.

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I woke to the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut. I'd somehow stumbled back to my bed after the events of last night, where Kian ended up drunkenly crying and telling everybody that he didn't deserve to live. Why? Because he lost a game of beer pong to Matt. The thing was...he'd been serious. It took every ounce of me not to laugh at his sorry state, with snot bubbling around his nose and tears streaking his eyes. Even then he was still lifting a beer bottle to his lips. Matt had then thrown up all over the coffee table and Joe had just kind of watched the carnage from afar, taking a drink every now and then. They all ended up sleeping over, with Kian in his room, Matt in the  guest room and Joe on the sofa.

My eyes wearily opened, darkness spotting my vision as my eyes began to adjust. "Kian if that's you, I swear to god." I cursed, throwing back the covers and trying to sit up. But as I did, two arms pinned me to the mattress and a face came into view.

Joe.

I struggled beneath his hold, thinking this was all just a joke. He was probably drunk and thought that this was his room. "Joe...Joe, stop it. This isn't your room!" I hissed, his eyes clouding over. He didn't seem intoxicated though, his breath wafting against my nostrils and filling them with the sickly smell of spearmint.