The Boyfriend Factory

Chapter Fourteen

In books and movies, there's always that moment where the boy and girl have the special connection, the one where they figure out they're perfect together – they're totally meant to be. Let us not forget, the 'almost kiss' scenarios.

Yeah, those don't exist.

As I got dressed for school and tugged on my trousers, my mind seemed to subconsciously flicker to the day before. I'd look in the mirror and find my face tomato red, like I'd taken a quick dip in a volcano. I scowled at myself and bit down hard on the bottom of my lip. My heart raced just thinking about how close we'd been . . .

"Ugggh!" I screamed. I threw myself onto my bed, trying to breath.

What had happened had potentially ruined my life.

I knew I had a tiny-weeny-mini-little crush on Ethan – Ethan – but what had happened definitely didn't make it any better. He was driving me insane – and he wasn't even here bugging me.

I was used to reading this sort of stuff in books. Heck, I dealt with this stuff as a third party. I wasn't called Cupid for nothing. But actually having these feeling was driving me to the edge. I sighed into my pillow and flipped over my stomach, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm acting like a cliché teen," I muttered to myself. I glared up at the ceiling as if it were Ethan's face.

After regathering my nerves, I got back up onto my feet. I looked in the mirror once more. The colour had simmered down, but it was still there all the same. I sighed again and completely by habit, remembered when Ethan had come over to check on me. And our super top secret AK.

The Almost Kiss.

I pursed my lips and saw my cheeks flare. The thought was enough to make any normal fangirl squeal in delight and shatter windows halfway across the Earth. Or, in more likely scenarios, send a herd of Ethan's bloodhound girls after me in a flash. A tremble ran down my spine at the thought, and I felt myself panic inside a little.

Crap! I thought. I'd completely forgotten about his fanbase.

I fished out my phone from my pocket and checked the home screen. No new messages. Thirty-two missed calls from Violet – right, I needed to call her back. I shoved the phone back in my pocket, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Then I was blushing again.

I wanted him to text me. It was simple hormone deciphering. I scowled at myself in the mirror, my jaw clenched.

"You're an idiot," I told my reflection.

I sighed – for the billionth time – and slumped my shoulders. I shrugged on a coat and did my hair up in a quick ponytail. My glasses were still cracked and I couldn't stomach asking my mum to give me money to repair it, so for the moment I was sticking to my contacts. Somehow I'd find a way to get the cash to have them fixed. Besides, I was starting to get used to contacts.

The house was silent as I meandered down the staircase. The floorboards creaked under my feet and echoed through the whole building. I took a nervous glance into the sitting room, expecting to see Jared hungover or sleeping on the couch. No sign. I wearily walked into the kitchen to find no one there either. Relief washed over me fast, but a feeling of dread was there too.

Even if I was angry at my Mum, I was worried.

She'll be fine, I told myself. But I didn't believe it much.

After what Jared had done to me – sending me to the hospital – it made me feel even more worried about my Mum. I already hated her being around him, now out of the fear of my own safety, I was feeling constantly paranoid.