Truth or Dare? [REWRITTEN]

¤Chapter 42¤

¤Chapter Forty-Two¤

It's six a.m.

It's six a.m.

It's six a.m.

My head pops up from beneath the thick covers to reach for my alarm clock. I didn't anticipate how far my nightstand was and now I'm on the ground.

"Madi?" Owen's sleepy voice calls from above me. His eyes are extra radiant this morning and it both annoys and comforts me. I squint from the bright light in the room. That's right, I think to myself, I forgot that I spent the night at his place instead of mine.

It's been a couple days since the incident and our parents have both gone off on some top secret mission they refuse to tell us about. It's nice to know what they're really up to now that the truth has been revealed but the fact that all four of them have gone together is concerning. How big can that mission be? I know the main point of spies is they don't usually travel in groups because that tends to attract attention.

The day Owen got discharged from the hospital we told both our parents that we plan on enrolling in the Spy Academy next school year. Surprisingly, everyone took his news way better than mine. My guess is Jen and Chris knows I'll look after him so they're not super worried. On the other hand, dad has not stopped pouting ever since that day. He seems really depressed about it but I know he'll eventually accept it —especially since mom's on my side. 

"Isn't it too early to smile at me like that?" I scrunch my face up at him.

"Never" He shakes his head then offers me a hand. I take it and he helps me climb back onto the soft bed.

"Our final exam is today" I mention, hoping to quickly change the subject from my fall.

His head tilts curiously. "Are you worried you'll fail?"

"No," I scoff. "I'm worried it's too soon for you to be moving with your injury"

Mom removed the large bandages from around his head and replaced it with a smaller bandage that he has to change after applying ointment to the area once a day. When his stitches heal a small scar will remain as a permanent reminder of that moment. I don't know how I feel about that yet. I have a few scars myself but they aren't anything I didn't expect or deserve.

"I'm glad you care so much about me" He wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me closer so I'm leaning against the bed frame next to him.

Without meaning to my hand slides through his disheveled hair as I finally ask, "What product do you usually use?"

His brows furrow. "Huh?"

"In your hair," I turn away as my cheeks begin to grow warm. "How does it usually stay in place? Gel?"

He watches me in disbelief for a moment before howling in pure laughter. "How long has this been bothering you?" 

"Forget it."

He grabs my chin so I'm forced to look in his twinkling eyes. "I don't know if you're aware but there's this thing called hairspray and it does wonders for a person's hair"

"Really? Just hairspray?" My surprise helps me graciously ignore the heavy sarcasm in his tone. I reach to touch his hair again. He's not supposed to get his head wet too often so he wasn't able to wash it out last night. "But it's not crispy..."

"Babe, how much of the stuff do you think I use?" He laughs again. The rays seeping through the blinds illuminates his silhouette like an angel.

I cross my arms, feeling stupid. "A lot. I barely see it move or shift out of place."