Irresistible Compulsions

||Chp. Six|| "Who's the pervert now?"

We didnt get home 'til about 1:30am last night.

We'd been sitting at Maccas for around an hour, devouring our body weight in chicken nuggets and chocolate sundaes when Rachael started spamming Dylan's phone.

At first he'd ignored the texts but when she starting ringing on repeat he picked up on the third call. I only heard one side of the conversation but it was enough to know her end wasn't very PG judging by the immediate smirk that appeared and his rush to get home after he'd hung up.

They didn't hang around too long after we got back but I didn't miss the daggers Rachael shot in my direction the moment I walked through the front door behind Dylan.

I think they left to crash at her place for the night but I didn't pay them much attention, opting to do a walk through and assess the damage. The music had died down and I noticed most people had gone home other than the few passed out on the couch and living room floor. All signs of rowdiness had died down and the house was pretty dead except for the small group gathered on the back verandah passing around a blunt and the couple I found making out against the kitchen sink.

The house looked like a bomb had gone off, empty beer cans and rubbish scattered around the place, glass bottles stacked high on the kitchen counter.

Deciding it would be a tomorrow issue, I went straight to sleep, stripping down out of my dress and hopping into bed.

The dredded sound of my alarm pierced through my eardrums about ten minutes ago and I haven't been able to get back to sleep despite my best efforts.

With a groan I roll over and feel around on my bedside table, blindly searching for my phone to check what ungodly hour I'd woken up to.

1:45pm.

Okay maybe it's not that early after all.

Don't judge me. Night shift's a bitch and I've been swapping between morning and night shift for the past three months. It's actually killing my brain trying to readjust to different sleeping patterns each week.

Nurses really deserve more pay I reckon.

I let out a loud yawn, my limbs contorting in all kinds of positions as I stretch my body out, my mind urging my body awake.

Getting up, I chuck on an oversized white shirt, not overly concerned about putting on undies as I don't plan on doing much other than lounging around in bed the rest of the day. Bracing myself as I twist my door knob, I attempt to mentally prepare myself for the enormous clean up that awaits me downstairs.

I'm pleasantly surprised as I realise I won't have to call my parents and explain why I'd drowned their first born child, breathing a sigh of relief as I enter the lounge room, taking in the orgasmic sight of a spotless house. Not a speck of dust out of place.

Luckily for Jake, he'll live to see another day.

The loud groan of my stomach inches me towards food and I find Jake and Dylan in the kitchen, leaning against the island bench with bowls of cereal in hand, chatting loudly in between chews as they scoff down enough Coco Pops to feed a foot ball team. Both still in their pyjamas but I notice a line of sweat glistening on their foreheads and wet patches around the arm pits of their shirts, clearly Dylan was a part of the mystery clean up crew and I decide to spare his life aswell.

His eyes flicker in my direction, widening slightly in shock as they take in my appearance, lingering on something in particular for far too long. My own eyes look over my body, trying to see what's caught his attention, suddenly feeling self conscious.

Do I have a stain on my shirt?

"Good afternoon!" Jake exclaims as he notices my presence.

Flipping him off with a sarcastic smile, I push past them and grab a bowl of my own, pouring myself breakfast.