The Bad Boy Kept My Secret (Undergoing Heavy Editing)

~|Chapter 15|~

|Tristan|

I slowly opened my eyes and let out a small yawn. My head was spinning and the Advil that I downed only a few hours ago, didn't affect me at all. I lay in bed for another five minutes before deciding to finally get out of bed. Since my shivering hadn't stopped since last night, I walked out of Drake's room with a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

Surprisingly, I heard strange noises coming from further in the apartment. I frowned in confusion and followed the noise, and ending up padding towards the kitchen.

"And oh, I think that I found myself a cheerleader," someone sang.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness of the apartment, and hoping that what I was seeing was just a figment of my imagination. When they did come into focus, I saw Sam standing in the kitchen by the stove, singing a preppy song and dancing along to it. I threw my head back and groaned.

"What the hell, Sam?"

"Oh, hey Tristan!" he continued in a sing-song voice. He turned around slightly and gave me a small wave. "Your soup will be done in five minutes," he announced.

I felt too dizzy to question his motives right now so I sighed and pulled out a bar stool at the breakfast counter. I plonked myself down onto the seat and just then, Sam started speaking again.

"How you feeling?" he asked, coming to stand in front of me on the opposite side of the counter.

"Like shit," I stated.

"Still?" he asked with a frown.

I nodded and brought my arms up onto the counter to rest my head on top of them. "What are you doing here? Isn't it third block now?"

"I told you, I'm making soup for you. Plus, I just went to school to do my English test, which happened in first block. I left after it was over," he explained.

"But why are you back?" I asked. "Besides the soup!" I said before he could repeat that part.

He gasped.

"Tristan! You're my best friend. My bud. My hommie! I couldn't just leave you all alone when you're walking around with a perfectly curable disease!" he exclaimed, flailing his arms about like a madman.

I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want from me?"

Sam's grin fell and he gave me a flat look.

"I need you to get me Bridgett's number," he stated.

"Who the fuck is Bridgett?" I asked, sitting up. "And why would I have her number?"

Sam sighed and looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Bridgett is in Avila's party," Sam explained.

"Avila had a party? When? She doesn't look like the partying type." I frowned in confusion.

"Oh my god, Tristan!" Sam exclaimed, gripping his hair.

"What?" I snapped.

"You are so behind in life," he said dramatically.

I scowled at him. He rolled his eyes at me and sighed.

"Avila's party is her group of people that help her with the Student Body President duties. Bridgett is like the connection to her and the rest of the school. She talks to the people and asks what they want, and then gives the message to Avila. She's also head of the Environment department," Sam blabbered.