Love To Hate You | 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙷𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜 ❈

Twenty Five

Trudging my way through the cafeteria, I squinted at the brightness of the morning sun. I was absolutely, undeniably, hungover, and honestly didn't remember a thing past putting on my jeans in my drunken stare last night. I hadn't even realised that we'd gone to the bonfire, much less, spent time there.

It was safe to say I was never drinking vodka again.

Stella and Izzy had been teasing me since I woke up about Jack, but honestly, I had no idea why.

"You guys we're all over each other!" Stella cried, laughing along with Izzy as we grabbed out breakfast.

"Don't forget about Jack basically eating Lyla's face," Izzy chirped, snorting.

My eyes shot open. "What?"

"I have video evidence," Stella confirmed with a menacing grin. "It's almost like it wasn't your first kiss."

"Wait, we kissed?" I shrieked, mortified.

Both girls smirked proudly, Stella shoved her phone in my face, showing me a video on her screen of exact evidence of just that. Jack and I kissing, hard. "Like it was the last kiss of your life."

"Oh god," I mumbled, watching in horror as he gripped my face in his hands, my own hands clutching the hem of his hoodie like my life depended on it. It wasn't just a normal kiss, either, the kind that was sweet and innocent and gentle, the kind most people would have engaged in when being dared to. No, Jack was hooking up with me, the kind of kiss that would have made sober Lyla weak at the knees, and more than likely elicited a moan from me at the time.

"I almost regret instigating it," Izzy admitted with a laugh. "You guys are wouldn't get off each other after that. Stella had to take you to bed."

"And the whole time you kept telling me you wanted Jack to take your clothes off."

I screeched, throwing my face in my hands and wanting to die.

Jack walked in the room then, wearing a black t-shirt, some causal jeans and a grey plaid flannel. His cap was facing backwards as usual, and I found myself silently swooning over him. How was it that he could put in near to no effort and still look good? My effort today had been much worse. I was wearing high waisted denim shorts, a cropped hoodie and a cap. I didn't have any makeup on, which now I felt self conscious about, knowing I'd flat out made out with Jack, and felt a little silly that I hadn't put in more effort.

Jack had just about every girl in the school after him, so why in the world would he chose to go after someone like me who could barely run a brush through her hair.

I left breakfast feeling self conscious and awkward, and sort of made it my mission to avoid Jack at all costs, just in case he brought up a kiss I don't really remember. A part of me was mad at myself. Every time we'd tried to kiss, it had been cut short, and the one time we really did get to finish a kiss, I didn't remember it. That would be right.

The morning camp games began after breakfast, starting with a game down by the lake that required students to wear swimwear. I felt strange being in just a bikini, knowing that Jack was right behind me, and I could feel his stare burning into the back of me.

Sure, I'd had dreams about Jack seeing every part of me, but now that it was happening out in the open, I felt strange.

It was time to start the games, and our first round was a stand up paddle boarding game in which we had to paddle from one side of the lake to the other, racing other teams, then once you got to the other side, capture a flag, run to a zip line to be strapped in, then zip line race back to the beach.

I was shitting myself by the time it was my turn to go, because the person I was racing was Jack, and Jack was fit as fuck, shirtless, and a major distraction.