A large clank sounded, followed by a muffled groan. My head hurt even before I attempted to open my eyes, which were nearly sealed together thanks to the mascara I still had on.
Finally pulling my lashes apart, I surveyed the room and recognized it immediately; purple walls and a collage of magazine cutouts—mostly hot boys—taped neatly all over it.
I turned over to see the back of Lauren. She was reaching off of her bed for something. More and more of her disappeared until she gasped and her entire body fell off the bed. The duvet went with her, slipping over my body to leave me exposed. I immediately crawled to her side to peak over the bed.
Lauren was a pile of limbs, tangled in her duvet on the carpet. She groaned again, running her hands through her light brown hair.
I winced watching her curl up on the floor. My head hurt just thinking about how much that must've hurt. "Are you okay?"
Lauren looked up at me, her eye make-up smeared under her eyes. She mumbled a, "I'm never drinking again," before grabbing her phone, which was on the floor a few feet away. I figured that was what she must've dropped. She got back up onto her bed and I moved over to make room for her.
We were silent as memories of the night before came rushing back. I could suddenly smell the lingering scent of vomit on my breath.
I thought I knew you. I thought we told each other everything.
My stomach churned as Lauren's voice sounded in my head. The rage I had felt last night now seemed further away. Perhaps it really was my fault. I knew I should've told her sooner.
"About last night," I started, turning my head to peer at the side of her face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him. And I'm sorry for ditching you."
Lauren turned her head to meet my gaze. With a loud sigh, she said, "I'm sorry too. I was drunk and totally overreacted." Then she playfully narrowed her eyes at me, but her voice remained firm, "You should've told me though."
My spine went stiff with guilt from her words. I had been so stupidly selfish. She would've been happy for me had I told her and we would've avoided this whole ordeal.
"So you guys are pretty serious?" Lauren asked.
I returned to staring at the ceiling. "I don't know. I guess?"
"Where were you two anyway?" she interrogated. "It took Bridget awhile to find you."
"We were just on Landon's back porch hanging out with his friends."
"Wow," she said evenly.
I glanced over at her again. Her brown hair was a knotted mess and her blue eyes were focused on picking at the dirt under her fingernails with raised eyebrows. "What?"
"He really likes you."
"I wouldn't say 'really'—" I tried.
"Kate," Lauren stopped me, her eyes swinging from her fingernails to me. "He texts you all the time, he took you out on an actual date, he introduced you to his friends..."
I didn't think any of those things were really a big deal.
And even though I didn't say that out loud, I was reminded yet again just how easy I was to read, because her eyes widened in annoyance at my apparent stupidity in this arena as she scoffed, "You realize how rare that is, right?"
YOU ARE READING
White Noise
Teen FictionKate Blanchard rarely goes outside of her comfort zone - especially when it comes to boys. Between her younger sister who's desperately trying to find herself and her mother who can't get out of bed, boys are the last thing Kate needs to think about...