25 Days with Mister Arrogant

Laundry Service

Author's Chapter Notes:

ohhh guys. you're in for a good one. enjoy.

There was this one time, when I was about fourteen years old, that I’d thought that I’d truly been heartbroken. I’d been an awkward thing – even more so than now, with very little sense of any real self expression, but that was about the time I’d met and grown close to Cole. I was enamored with him – the flutters in my stomach wouldn’t subside when he was near, the aching in my chest worsened when he smiled, and a stupid grin was consistently plastered on my face in his presence. I’d liked him a lot, and he’d liked me too. Unfortunately, I was his buddy. His Anna banana. His friend. He usually joined me for lunch, but this particular time he was nowhere to be found. Only minutes later had he come strolling in, his arm wrapped affectionately around the waist of this pretty blonde girl with a large bust and a blindingly white smile. I was devastated. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for nights on end; all because I was sure that I was suffering a slow and agonizing death. From a broken heart.

That was the last time I’d felt that dull, throbbing sensation resonating through my chest or the awful sickness tightened in my stomach. It was the last time my mind had been plagued with racing thoughts of what if what if.

Until now.

I sat within the cushions of Bill’s oversized sofas, my body stiff and my eyes moving only to catch glimpses of Bill gliding from the kitchen to the living space with a hot pizza box and a DVD. My mind was elsewhere. I felt sick – I felt, God I didn’t know what I felt. I knew Paige was back at the apartment, giddily curling her blonde locks and applying a generous amount of shimmery eye shadow and fruity lip gloss and perfuming her delicate little neck. I knew she was slinking into a silky fitted dress, the front dipped low so Tom could peek every so often. So Tom could know what he’d be offered later in the evening. And seeing Tom leave half an hour prior, his warm brown eyes looking everywhere but mine just about did me in. He sauntered out in dark jeans and a deep grey pullover, his braids not confined by a bandana but instead a simple black knit cap. The scent of his damn cologne and body wash – both which I knew all too well at this point – still lingered in the air long after he left.

It made me want to vomit.

I tried to avert my mind to something – anything but the disgusting date my roommate and Tom were going on tonight. My mind wandered only for a moment as I observed that Bill’s loft was almost identical to Tom’s – only Bill’s was much messier, with clothing thrown over random furniture pieces and half-eaten packs of skittles sitting open on the counter. I also tried to amuse myself by observing the attire of Bill instead; he was still dressed in those flashy blue track pants and fitted black hoodie. His hair was loose around his shoulders, slightly disheveled, but the most noticeable difference in him was the lack of makeup on his sharp features. He wore no heavy liner or smoky shadows on his eyes, and I couldn’t help but notice that he looked good – if not better - without the cosmetics.

He noticed me staring at him and rolled his eyes as he sat down next to me, causing the cushions to sink in slightly. “Don’t look at me,” he sighed dramatically. “I’m a creature.”

“Please,” I snorted, watching him lean forward with a smile to set the box of hot pizza on the coffee table between us. “You couldn’t look bad if you tried.”

He scoffed and sat back, a can of soda in one hand. With a manicured finger, he pulled the tab open, letting a light sizzle erupt from the small opening. “I look awful and that’s that.” He paused, motioning to the pizza. “Help yourself. I’m sorry if you don’t like thick crust but it’s Tom’s favorite.”

His gaze darkened and my chest tightened. “It’s fine,” I offered with a small smile, reaching forward to rip a slice from the pie. “A pizza’s a pizza to me.”