Pretty Girls

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THERE WASN'T A white Christmas this year. Although the urban city of Los Angeles could boast plentiful of things, snow during December was apparently not one of them. I hadn't even heard a peep from Apollo since Christmas morning, all ending with a small greeting via text message that sent well wishes for the holidays.

When I woke up on the morning of New Year's Eve, I was certainly not expecting to be greeted by an eerily empty house. On mornings such as this, there would usually be a commotion originating from the kitchen as a result of my parents' daily friendly squabble over what to have for breakfast. Today, however, was not one of such days.

"Hello?" I called out, still wrapped comfortably in my pajamas with a yawn threatening to spill from my lips and fingers still attempting to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

As expected, I did not receive a reply. The house was plunged into a silence that seemed to creep through the fine cracks in my bones, making me shiver even though the weather was not even extraordinarily cold.

"Just great. Spending New Year's Eve alone without any sort of warning."

Grumbling, I quickly slipped into the bathroom to get myself ready for the day, washing up before pulling my hair back in a tight ponytail. Once I was done, I made my way back out to the kitchen only to see a single post-it note stuck onto the fridge door. I tore it off with ease, eyes scanning over the piece of paper with a frown.

Had an emergency at work. Will not be home. There's money on the bedside table for your meals.

Love, Mom & Dad

An unexplainable wave of annoyance flooded my veins as I crushed the paper in the palm of my hands, tossing it into the trash without a second glance. I watched as it bounced off the edge of the trash bin before sadly toppling to the ground with a light tap. As if it was mocking me, the note gently moved when a sudden gust of wind blew at it, making it move slightly away from the trash bin. I merely rolled my eyes at that for I could not be bothered to pick it up.

"It would be nice if they had given a heads up," I mumbled to myself, shuffling back into my room and allowing my feet to drag across the ground. "Maybe I should go out."

It took me less than ten minutes to wash up and dress up. Now armored by a cozy sweater and ripped jeans, I stepped out of the house and into the cooling air. Naturally, I began to recount the steps towards one of the more familiar settings for the past few days, a place in which I found myself spending quite a number of afternoons at.

When I finally stopped in front of Apollo's house, I couldn't help but stand still on the gravel road outside, simply staring up at the mansion. Since it was still early in the morning, the curtains were all drawn up, lights off and silence decorating the air that surrounded the building. The entire street mimicked such a scene, all quiet without a soul. I couldn't help myself but frown.

Was Apollo not at home?

Nevertheless, I decided to ring the doorbell, praying to my lucky stars that he would answer the door any minute. When I found myself waiting even after the third ring of the doorbell, I sighed in despair. Fifteen minutes had passed since I stood outside the front door, simply waiting at the door. Perhaps he wasn't at home after all.

Just when I was about to leave, however, the door was flung open as my body immediately swiveled around at the sound. There Apollo stood, shirtless with a head of bed hair – messy and disheveled – and wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs. Instantaneously, I looked away with a blush tinting my cheeks a bright scarlet, clearing my throat.