Double Take [Sequel to Bound]

19. The Best

this is pretty long on word, almost 12 pages. lmao oops?

hope y'all enjooyyyy.

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Chapter 19—The Best

Klara's POV:

          I was hungover.

          So, so hungover with my pounding head and wobbly knees, and all I wanted to do was get rid of the taste of alcohol and puke from my mouth. And as I stumbled out of the black car, I thanked every God there is known to exist for Tylenol, my body guard George who supplied me with it, and the dark sunglasses shielding my eyes from the harsh sun beating down on me as I scrambled my way into the school building.

          I had already missed the first half of the school day, with it being lunch right now as I stepped into the empty hallway. If it were up to me, you better fucking believe that I would be home right now sleeping the day away. But I had a major report and presentation due last period and if I didn't get a good grade, Mum would ban me from doing the next few photo shoots I was scheduled for. She could be a pretty strict parent sometimes.

          Instead of heading towards the cafeteria where everyone was, I made a B-line for my locker whilst trying my best not to collapse in my heeled boots. Fuck, my feet were killing me.

          Reaching it, I struggled to put in my combination, but managed to do so after a couple of frustrating tries and pulled it open rather harshly. Releasing a grunt, I sifted through the crap in my locker before my eyes landed on the packet of gum that I had in there, and took out a mint strip before unwrapping it and immediately tossing it in my mouth to freshen up my breath.

          Once I did so, my eyes shut from behind my glasses and I leaned my head on the locker next to mine, releasing a tired sigh. Man, I knew going to that party last night was a bad idea. But I was Klara fucking Styles, and me rejecting the invitation to a party was unheard of, honestly. So, naturally, I had drank too much and partied too hard, and now I was practically the walking dead.

          "Son of a bitch," I breathed out, reveling in the feeling of the cool locker metal against my forehead. I was still wearing the black shorts and black crop top I wore last night, and the top was pretty provocative and I'm sure if a teacher or the head master spots me, I'll be in a shit ton of trouble for dressing this way—no matter who my parents are.

          "Um, Klara?"

          My eyes opened, and I pushed myself off the locker before turning my head to the left to catch sight of none other than Vin. He stood wearing a black and red flannel, with some jeans and a grey hoodie on top of his shirt. His bag hung off his shoulder, and he was staring at me with eyebrows scrunched together in what seemed like concern. Oh, God.

          "What?" I snapped, feeling irritation swell up as I chewed my gum. My arms crossed over my chest in my signature pose, my right sight leaning against the lockers as I stared at him from behind my sunglasses, eyebrows rising.

          He blinked at my somewhat insensitive response, but didn't seem to back down. "Are you okay?" Vin questioned, his eyes looking at me warily. Well, mostly at my outfit, but honestly, who could blame him? And who the hell was he to judge? "You look at bit, um, worn out."

          I rolled my eyes, not caring that he can't really see it. My ankles were crossed, just like my arms, as I stared Vin down. To his credit, he didn't seem to waver at my intense stare like most people have come to do—although it probably wasn't as intimidating from behind my dark glasses. "Partied too hard, I guess," I shrugged carelessly, blowing a bubble until it deflated with a pop!