trøuble. (s.w.)

eight.

charlottes pov:

"fuck you, sam, fuck you so fucking much. james was right about you, youre a fucking dick. go fuck yourself." i say while walking outside and in my car. i feel a strong grasp on my arm "fuck off, sam." i say without looking who it is. "im not sam." i look over and see nate. "oh, nate, hi. i wasn't expecting you." "whatd sam do?" "he hit me, its no biggie though. i could totally deal with it." he looked so hurt when i was really supposed to be the one with the sad eyes. "that's not right. he shouldn't of don't that." he said looking as if he wanted to cry but at the same time as if he wanted to go on a murdering spree. "yeah i know but i got school in the morning to im out, text me." i say while walking off.

once i got home, i wiped off all my makeup, changed into an oversized t-shirt and slowly drifted to sleep.

i woke up to 36 messages, 23 from nate, 15 from sam.

most of nate's messages consisted of cute little notes and nicknames while sam's held apologies and curse words.

i texted both back:

to nate:

hey sorry i was sleeping. youre so cute, i love waking up to cute little messages ahaha.

to sam:

sam, you overreacted way to much last night you had no fucking right to slap me. i guess once you did that i was also a bit fumed up but still never ever hit me again.

from nate:

youre cuter, babygirl.

from sam:

i know im sorry, please forgive me. how about this, we start all over like we never met and we forget everything.

to sam:

im in.

from sam:

cool, make up lunch at 2:00?

to sam:

sure, ill pick you up then.(:

from sam:

no no no, char, i pick you up.

//author's note// hi hi okay so the lunch will be in the next chapter. i hope you guys liked this one, please comment about how you like the story and want to see in upcoming chapters, love you!