Opening my eyes, I hear voices both laughing one separately as a man, and the other as a group. Squinting, I look towards the sounds when I realise the TV was left on over night. Its a episode of something called 'Live At The Apollo.' Whatever it is, it must be incredibly hilarious, because the camera zooms in on one of the members of the crowd and it looks like that they're actually crying of laughter.
Suddenly, I become aware of my surroundings, that I'm covered with a velvet black blanket, the white bowl which was filled with popcorn of last night on the table, and my phone lying on the floor. But, where the hell is Zachary Anderson?
"Zac?"
No answer. I decide to look around for the guy myself, reluctantly pulling off the blanket of warmness. And then the thing that I always do happens again. I step onto the cold, cold floor; barefoot. Always. It's like my slippers miraculously disappear overnight as if they planned the entire thing out for my pain and bitterness . Mumbling a stream of words that my mother wouldn't be proud of, I make my way to Zac's door, knocking before I call out his name.
Still, no answer.
He might be asleep. He might be dead. He could of been killed. But the gut feeling inside me is telling me..
I should look for him on a full stomach.
So that's why I entirely forget my hunt for Zachary, and call up room service since I'm too lazy to go out and get some food. I decide to order some eggs, bacon and some toast, while its being prepared I do the chore to scrub myself clean.
God, I hate showering. No, I mean yes, I love being clean, smelling fresh and all that shit, but the actual process of having a shower. BOR-INNG! Yes of course I have a shower everyday, but the long process of actually shampooing your hair, and then washing it, then doing the same thing again, it's just tiresome. And it's absolutely amazing how EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. IT MANAGES TO GET IN MY EYE.
Pure talent.
From that, then you have to scrub your body, and its just sooooo long. Call me lazy, but you have to do this...
Every.
Single.
Day.
God help me.
****
'Something big...
My jam rings out as I shove another forkful of bacon and toast in my mouth, which my stomach is thankful for, before I raise my phone to my ear, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
(It's me. I always do that now secretly in my mind, thanks to Adele.)
" I DID IT, I GOT A DATE WITH HER!! I CANT EVEN BELIEVE I DID IT, BUT SOMEHOW SHE ACTUALLY LIKES ME AND I-"
"Random guy say what?"
The voice over the phone laughs before saying, "It's Aiden."
A big smile is worn on my face, happy to hear one of my friends who I haven't heard from in quite abit.
"AIDEENNNN!!! Sorry, I'm such a Dory sometimes, How you been?"
"Hehe, don't worry, I'm good, how about you?"
YOU ARE READING
The Bad Boy, The Bet & Me
Novela Juvenil"Mads, I'm sure this is the right house, plus, who cares? I'd totally be killing the wet, hot look anyway.'' I roll my eyes back dramatically and force myself with all my might to not blurt out, 'YOU WOULD.' as his ego would then be enough to make m...
