All Over Me

Chapter 12

Ace

Knock, knock, knock.

"Are you awake?" a feminine voice says. I don't quite recognize it. "Let me in."

Let me in? Let me in what? I'm dreaming, am I? This is a dream.

"You won't make it to have breakfast," she says. What the hell?

The knocks sound louder in my head. They sound realer. Am I dreaming or not?

I feel something move beside me. Legs. Smooth legs touch mine. Hair tickles my nose.

I slowly open my eyes. Dark blonde hair invade my sight. That dark blonde hair.

I'm not fucking dreaming. This is real. Selene's head on my chest is so damn real.

And her sister's banging on the door is real. Jesus Christ. This is fucked up.

I prop myself on my elbows. "Sel. Sel, wake up," I whisper, shaking her a little.

"Hmm..." she moans.

"Sel, your sister. Ariana. She's looking for you," I tell her.

She opens her eyes just enough to see me. "What?" she says, confused and still half asleep.

"She's looking for you," I repeat.

Her eyes widen. "Oh God! Quick, hide! In the bathroom!" she tells me, and we jump off the bed at the same time. "If she finds you in here...she's gonna chop your head off."

"I know," I say as I close myself in the bathroom.

I hear Selene open the door. She yawns.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" her sister tells her. "You need to have breakfast before going to class."

To class? What is she talking about? My dad didn't tell me anything last night.

"To class?" Selene asks, sounding as confused as I am.

"Yes," Ariana says as if she should've known. "Mr. Archer called me to tell me because you weren't answering your phone."

"I was sleeping," Sel tells her.

"Well, get ready, come knock at my door when you're ready to go," her sister says, and I hear the door shutting.

I exhale.

The door of the bathroom bursts open and I inhale sharply. She scared the shit out of me.

"I was thinking," she says, "that we broke the law."

I frown. "Wait, first thing first, we didn't have sex, second, you're seventeen, aren't you?"

She nods.

"Then we didn't. The age of consent in New York is seventeen, and in Nevada too," I tell her.

"Oh, you're right."

"But I'm still eight years older than you, Sel," I remind her.