Chapter 12 - All sorts of crazy

4K 165 6
                                    

heyy guys. new update. hope you like it. can't talk. Lots of love x

Vote/comment/follow

Unedited


What the hell.


That was the first thought that flooded into my head when I woke up. What the actual hell. I took in an audible gasp as my eyes searched my surroundings. Omg. I was at home, I was in my bed, my dresser to the left, windows to right. My breathing was ragged as I sat up quickly causing my head to thump and the room to spin, fighting the urge to throw up I make it out of bed. Slowly but surely until I was standing up facing the windows. What.The.Hell...


I was wearing my pyjama top and my short little pj bottoms. Someone had taken me home, got me dressed and put me in my bed and I knew if it wasn't for the hangover or the sharp pain in my arm and leg that I would have thought it was a dream. After reassuring myself that the person who took me home and got me changed wasn't the same person I proceeded to walk into my bathroom, dazed and confused I looked into the mirror shocked at the reflection in front of me. I looked normal. Apart from the bags under my eyes and my overall look of tiredness I looked much better than a girl that had just partied all night.


"omg" I groaned under my breath. This was giving me a migrane, I collapse onto the toilet, take some Advil and begin processing what happened. I kept getting to that same point and after my mind would draw a blank. Fight with Noah, falls onto bad guy.... Blank. That same point every time no matter how hard I thought, I knew I didn't have anything else to drink because I'm sure I would remember or would i? At this point I don't know anything. If I could just talk to Blair.


"My phone!" I yell as the thought pops into my head. I'm sure someone could tell me what was going on and I'm pretty sure Blair would have caught a glimpse of me sometime during the night. I run into my room and look for my phone and to my surprise it's nowhere, not on the dresser not on my bed, under my bed on the floor , it's nowhere. I let out a frustrated groan and lower myself to the ground. This could not be happening, last night was supposed to fun, a carefree night instead even maths sounds more fun than the situation right now. I can't remember taking my phone out, it was in my bra the whole night, I was sure of it.


My dress was also nowhere to be seen. Maybe Scott has it? It was a reasonable explanation! Maybe he got me changed and found the phone in the dress or whoever dropped me off gave it to him. Convincing myself that's what happened I walk to the door. It's locked. A shiver slides down my spine, it's never locked and I don't think it's ever been locked, I suddenly feel uneasy and beginn to try opening it even though I knew it was locked.


"You have to open" I yelled to the door as I pulled the door handle and tried to yank it open. No luck, all my years of boxing classes and I couldn't break a door handle, totally irrelevant but still. I then figured if the door was locked than he had to be home, causing me to then make as much noise as humanly possible. I kicked the door and banged it with my fists until I heard the noise of it being unlocked.


I yanked the door wide open, still angry with the current situation. The person on the other side of the door left me even more confused. It was Scott of course but in his hand he held a paint brush. A paint brush covered in white paint and Scott stood covered in it.


I was the first one to break the silence. "What ... are ..you ... doing?" I asked in a slow voice, if my morning couldn't get any crazier it just did. I peered round the door to see fresh white paint slopped all over the walls and the carpet covered in... newspaper?

Breaking the Boys Where stories live. Discover now