I Was Saved... by the Jerkface

Winter Break

{TWO MONTHS LATER}

I stepped out of the warm, steamy shower, water dripping down my long hair. I wrapped my usual blue fluffy towel around myself tightly and walked out of the bathroom and into my room. Blake is in the living room watching TV, just like he normally is these days. It's winter break, and we were officially out from school for the next three weeks.

See, three days ago, my parents informed me that they'd be going on a business trip, only this one wasn't like the others. No, this time, they'd be gone for a whole month. Long story short, I got angry with them, and three days later (two days after they left, yes they only gave me one day's warning) I was still angry, and hadn't spoken to them since they'd gone to the airport.

I'd gotten a lot closer to Blake in two month's time. Yes, I admit, it was slightly awkward between us after the almost-kiss... incident... thing. But hey, the past is the past, and I'm happy to announce that we're very close now. He's like my big brother, and I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. He's over at my house all the time, whether my parents like it or not, and once I told him my parents were going to be gone he'd basically packed his stuff and moved in with me.

Maybe you're thinking, What does his dad think about all this? Well I'll tell you what I've learned about his dad so far. Blake doesn't really like to talk about him, but since we're really good friends now he opened up a little more. His mom isn't around; she split when Blake was ten, which broke his heart. His dad has been an alcoholic ever since. Not a huge, piss-drunk alcoholic like some, but definitely enough that Blake couldn't stand to be around him. Whenever his dad was in one of his moods, Blake either went to his apartment or came to my house. His dad wasn't rich, but obviously since they lived in New York City, they weren't poor either. His dad worked for some business company, but how he managed to get up and go to work every day I'll never imagine.

I had laid my clothes on the bed before I got in the shower, but now as I looked down at the spot where I put them, something was missing. I sifted through the clothes, my hands running across a baby blue cotton t-shirt, pink sleeping pants, and a bra, but my underwear was nowhere to be found. Well, that's weird, I thought. I could swear I put some on the bed...

Well, this was easily fixed. I'd just get a new pair from my drawer. That is, until I saw Cookie move out of the corner of my eye. As I turned to say hi to her, I saw my purple lacy underwear in her mouth.

"Cookie!" I yelled, and as soon as I said did she took off out of my room. "Come back here!"

I ran down the hallway, past my parents' bedroom and the guest room where Blake slept most of the time. I scampered, nearly falling over in my haste to grab my panties from my dumb dog's mouth. I hardly realized until Blake said, "Whoa!" that I was basically almost naked, running around the house.

I stopped dead in my tracks, and my hands clutched nervously at the towel, tightening it. Even after becoming great friends with Blake, it didn't mean I wanted to be in this particular situation. I don't think anyone did.

"Cookie stole my underwear!" I said like a five-year-old and pointed at the perpetrator.

At that Blake started chuckling at me, and I glared at him. He stood and marched over to the dog, ripping my panties from her mouth and I muttered, "Stupid dog."

I didn't really hate Cookie, but sometimes she needed to learn to behave. She was an extremely pampered pooch, what with the endless supply of food, and a doggie bed in every room. Not to mention the monthly trip to the groomers and the outfits my mom insisted on putting her in.

Cookie barked once at me, wanting her toy (aka my underwear) back, but Blake didn't give them back, thank goodness. That was totally something he would do.