ScarLett

Chapter 7

Scarlett

I had the worst hangover ever the next morning. Why didn't they call it 'just hang yourself' instead of hangover? 'Cause that's what I felt like doing when the morning sun hit my face and I went blind.

I had dreamt of drowning in water. It was nothing compared to some of my other ridiculously terrifying dreams, so I didn't put much thought into this one.

After taking a long, oh so needed shower I put on some cut out denim shorts and a tank top and headed down to the kitchen. Jenna had already left when I went downstairs. I felt guilty for have putting her in such an uncomfortable position last night at the club. I made a note to apologize to her as soon as she came back.

But Jenna didn't come back.

And by the time the sun went down I started to get worried that there was still no sign of her yet. It was actually the first night that I was completely alone in this house.

I decided to make some pasta and mushroom sauce as I waited for her to walk through the door. But nothing happened.

The house was dead silent.

After the sauce was ready I placed the pasta onto a plate and poured the sauce on top.

I wasn't hungry.

I took my plate into the living area and switched on the flat screen TV and surfed through the channels. I couldn't find anything less boring to watch so I stuck to VH1. Maybe some music would drown out the silence that was making me feel uneasy.

I heard the front door open and I jumped to my feet, nearly spilling the plate I was holding in my lap. I placed it down on the coffee table and cautiously tiptoed towards the kitchen area.

Just then Jonnathan entered the kitchen.

We stood there staring at each other for a minute or so, neither of us moving an inch. I was still angry at him and from the looks of it, he didn't look too jolly himself.

More like grumpy, if the cat was a six foot tall, handsome statue. For the first time I actually studied Jonnathan's features. Well since we were just standing there killing time, why the hell not?

And he looked good.

His thick brown hair was styled as usual to the side. He was wearing ripped jeans and a light grey shirt that stuck to his torso shaping his chest muscles. Jonnathan was a gymaholic. If that was even a word. He worked out fiercely and the results were obvious.

I wanted to break the silence, so I took a few steps forward. But he turned around and headed for the stairs. I followed behind him, not sure what I was supposed to do.

"I met one of your friends last night," I spoke cautiously.

He stopped walking but didn't turn to face me.

I couldn't see his face but I could tell by his body posture that he was tensed.

"I didn't catch his name, but he knew who I was," I told him looking down at my hands remembering how messy I must of looked last night. If I'd known that I would run in to the hottest guy on the planet, I would of never gotten that wasted. But I was extremely angry at Joannathan for yelling at me that I'd lost control.

He took a few steps back and turned to face me, his eyes glued directly at mine giving me a sudden discomfort.

I didn't know what to say so I blabbered on, heating the situation up even more.

"He seemed nice," I said.

He took a few more steps forward and tilted his head to the side.

"Casper doesn't do nice."