In actuality, Angie ends up sleeping through most of the evening.
When she finally wakes, her head still pounds like someone's driving a nail through her temple.
She groans and decides she needs ibuprofen— fast.
Even though the bathroom is only a few steps from her bedroom, it feels like she's walking a mile.
She stumbles toward the cabinet and catches her reflection in the mirror.
Yeah, she's not looking great.
Her hair's a wild, frizzy halo, her under-eyes are a bruised lavender, and her skin's gone pale like she hasn't seen daylight in weeks.
"God, I look like shit," she mutters, dragging her fingers through her hair before braiding it loosely.
She shakes two pills into her palm and swallows them down with cold tap water.
She's halfway back to her room when the doorbell's off-key chime rings through the trailer.
They really need to get that thing fixed.
Frowning, she glances at the clock in the kitchen.
Eddie's campaign shouldn't be over for another hour, at least.
Who the hell is stopping by now?
"Hello?" she calls, tugging open the door.
The hinges groan.
Her stomach drops.
Standing outside are Tommy, Jason, and three of their hangers-on— Cooper, Jessie, and Kevin.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Angie's voice wavers, the cold air biting at her bare legs.
She tugs her jacket tighter, only realizing now that it's not hers— it's Steve's.
The same jacket he lent her after the Snowball.
It even still smells like him, faintly like cedar and laundry soap.
Tommy smirks, leaning against the doorframe. "We're just here for a little visit."
"Well, I'm not interested in visitors." She starts to close the door, but Jason wedges his hand against the frame.
"That's funny," he says with a twisted grin, running his tongue along his bottom lip. "Because I don't remember asking what you wanted, you bitch." He steps forward into the light, revealing fresh bruises along his jaw. "See this? Your little boyfriend did a number on us."
Angie blinks, confused. "Boyfriend?"
They can't mean Jonathan—he's too mild-mannered for this kind of mess—and the thought of Eddie is just... gross.
Which only leaves one name.
"Harrington?" she whispers.
Jason smirks. "No, sweetheart. Your other boyfriend."
"I don't understand." Her voice trembles despite her effort to sound steady.
"Billy Hargrove," Jason says, stepping closer.
Angie actually laughs—short, disbelieving. "Billy Hargrove? You've gotta be kidding me."
"Not kidding," Tommy cuts in. "He showed up yesterday, said we 'didn't listen.' Then beat the crap out of us."
"Didn't listen to what?" Angie demands.
"Oh, you know," Tommy says with a mocking grin, "the usual—'Touch her and I'll kick your ass.'"
YOU ARE READING
Angelica "Freak Two" Munson
Fanfiction"Hey, Harrington!" she reverses against her heel, flipping him the bird, "The names Freak Two, actually. If you're gonna insult me, you might as well do it right." ---------- Angelica Beatrice Munson, aka "Freak Two" is Eddie Munson's younger sister...
