Worth The Risk

Chapter Six

SPENCER

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          When I was younger and my dad was still alive, he told me that him and my mom used to have debates on who I would turn out like the most. When I got much older however, and evidently had the black curly hair, light hazel eyes, curvy body and light brown skin, my mom took all the credit.

Although, in my heart, I believed I was most like my dad.

But my dad sadly didn't get to see me grow up. I missed him like hell, and I wanted nothing more than for him to see me as a young woman, and what I've accomplished at my age.

I hope he would've been proud of me.

The sheets feel cold underneath my body when I wake up, and the joy I felt in my face and body slowly leaves as consciousness creeps up on me.

I bury my face into the pillow and wish to go back to sleep.

To be unaware of reality. To lose myself in another memory. A memory from the past. Just... any time before.

Whenever my father appears in my dreams, it always startles me and catches me off-guard.

The pain never gets easier, and I get up with that same weight pulling me down.

Like it always did.

My hangover the next morning was not too bad. My entire body felt sore, and I felt disgusting, but that was pretty much it.

I lay in bed for a few more minutes, not wanting to get up yet. Ultimately, I stretched and slowly got out of bed, groaning at my painful muscles.

When I got into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, I did not have the usual drowsy morning look I always did.

Oh no, it was much worse than that.

My curly black hair had developed itself into a nest over the few hours I actually got to sleep.

I hadn't even realized that I was still wearing my mud-smeared sneakers, flopped face-first onto my bed.

There were small cuts and scrapes on my arms from getting slammed onto the pavement, and my head was aching pretty badly.

All in all, I looked like a sleep-deprived zombie, so much so that I was left shaken for a few seconds when I looked at myself again.

It was truly a scary sight.

My hair was tangled into a mess, my hazel eyes cast with exhaustion, and my skin almost looked sickly.

Even though I felt like laying back down on my bed, I forced myself to take a quick shower and did as much as I could have to fix myself up.

I knew Blake would be here in a few minutes to pick me up, and I didn't want to explain any of last night to him.

Let alone his dickhead of a brother.

The only thing I got out of that little midnight trip was a cold pain at the back of my head, and a little damage to my pride.

Going outside at midnight and not catching a bad cold after getting caught up in the rain was kind of impossible when you lived in New York.

I stepped into the hot shower, thinking it might be helpful for my cold, but ended up hissing in pain as it made its way down my head.

Life's totally not fair.

I slowly touched the back of my head with my fingertips. Thank God I hadn't ended up with a concussion— at least I hoped so.

Usually, I'd go for the shower, but today I felt like soaking in the bath until I would be all wrinkly. So I did.