After class Trevor bid me farewell, saying he'd changed his mind about taking me with him, and he'd just meet up with me later with all the necessary ammunition. But now I'm bored. Lindsey's got class, and it doesn't feel right getting too friendly with Mercy since I'm preparing to demolish her tonight. My other option is to go for a run. I slip on my tenni's and appropriate clothing and head out. I take off in the same direction as Merv—that's what I've named my barn—but that'd be nearly ten miles round trip, and I'm just not up for that.
I'm sweating like a hippo by the time I stumble back to Samantha Hall. Actually, let's be realistic, I was sweating like a hippo three minutes into my run. I wipe my overflowing forehead, finally understanding why I was never one of the girls that got 'hottie honked' at while running. I looked more like a dude with massive pit stains and obvious swass—an embarrassment to the female population.
I stroll through the entrance, into the elevator, and down the hall to my room. As I slip through the door I can sense a change. Have you ever walked into a room and immediately known something was off? It could be something as small as a missing rug, or a crooked painting, and though you don't actually notice what it is, you can feel it. Well, that's the feeling I got the moment I walked through the door.
I freeze in place, scanning my surroundings, but can't pinpoint what is making me feel uneasy until it walks out of my bathroom. I nearly wet myself.
"Urmegurd, son of a bitten fudgemuffin!" I'm doubled over clutching my petrified little heart while Trevor scans my reaction, looking as innocent as a baby snow monkey.
"Uh... boo?" He quirks a brow, and I fall into a sloppy heap on the floor.
He makes his way to my bed and falls into it. He doesn't know there's dirt in it yet because I didn't get around to that part of the story while in class, but now that he's in my room, on said bed, there's no way I'm telling him. I don't want to explain that I'd slept in it like that.
"You kinda look like a homeless dude right now," Trevor informs me casually. I pry an eye open to glare at him.
"I think I'm more offended by the 'dude' part of that statement," I gripe as I roll onto my knees and grunt my way into a standing position.
"Can't say I'm digging the Medusa look," he says, as he flicks a small patch of dirt off my bed where it's escaped from hiding.
I am painfully aware of my appearance. Thanks.
He suddenly gets an 'uh oh' look on his face, and freezes. "Maddie's not gonna be pissed that I insulted her is she?"
I sigh pitifully before grabbing all the stray hairs away from my face to redo my ponytail.
"Well, seeing as how Maddie is short for Medusa... no, I think you'll survive this time."
"You're weird."
"Okay, first of all, you need to find a new adjective to describe me. 'Weird' is getting old," I preach. "Secondly, why?"
"'Cuz, you name your alter ego after your hair. That's like naming my alter ego Spike, or Cocoa, or—"
"Shaggy?" I supply.
He stops mid-sentence and looks at me like I've just launched bunnies out of a cannon and into a brick wall.
"You think it's shaggy?" He starts tugging at the strands with an adorable sense of insecurity, and, dagnabit, I feel like I just stole money from a homeless child.
I sit next to him, rubbing his arm tenderly. It wreaks all kinds of havoc on my nervous system as needles shoot into every inch of epidermis that comes into contact with his velvety skin. No, he wasn't kidding about that.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way," I console as if speaking to a sobbing child. "It's shaggy in a manly, hunky kinda way." I'm looking at his profile, so I immediately recognize the smirk tugging his lips upwards. "It's seductive with the appearance of silk dipped in coffee," I continue. His smirk is slowly dying. "Like Zac Efron, or Chris Hemsworth, or Jared Le—"
"Enough!" He's cringing away from me now.
I pat him lovingly on the shoulder and then fall back onto the bed.
"So, what's your plan?" I ask.
"Muah ha ha," he snickers while rubbing his hands together like an evil mad scientist.
I can't help but be slightly in awe of how high his voice can go at times. It's creepy.
"By the way," I finally ask, "Did you really drop baby oil filled balloons from the roof?"
"Yep," he answers, shifting positions on the bed. "Now I have a question for you." He squints with one eye while raising the brow of the other. I motion with my hand for him to continue. "Is this dirt in your sheets?" He pinches some between his fingers and lets it fall slowly.
"Uh, that's all Mercy's doing from last night," I quickly explain.
"I assume you sleep in your bed, right?" He waits for me to answer, but I don't. I have no response. I look at the ceiling. "Emma?... Did you sleep here last night?"
"Hmmm?" I mumble, still looking at the ceiling.
He starts laughing and it jolts the whole bed. I glare at the back of his head, and then dart my eyes back up when he turns back to face me with a wicked grin plastered to his lips.
"You did." It's not a question. He sighs as if concerned for my mental stability. "You're—"
"Don't say it—"
"—Weird."
-----
"So how did you find my dorm room?" I ask Trevor.
Due to the nature of our plan, we had to evacuate the premises of my dorm room until the time arrived for us to divide and conquer. So, now I'm lying on my back on his bed with my head hanging over the side, staring at his upside-down form as he lounges in his old recliner. He's sitting in it sideways with one leg propped up against the back of it.
"I tracked down Lindsey, who tracked down your roommate, and she let me in." He stops flipping through his iPod to glance up at me. "She's scary by the way, your roommate."
"Yeah, I know," I sigh, not the least bit surprised by his admission.
"She said that if I hurt you in any way she'd pluck each hair from my head while I slept and superglue them to my butt."
"Aw, she said that?" I feel so touched by her loyalty.
The look on Trevor's face says he doesn't agree. You'd think that I just grew a ponytail from my eyelashes by the way he's staring at me in concern.
I flip from my back to my stomach as Trevor returns to his iPod. He picks a song, and we sit in silence as Agnes Obel rasps out a sweet melody. I could drift off into a very happy sleep right about now. This is basically all we do for the next five hours: chat about nonsense and listen to music. Strangely, it's about the most excitement I've had in a while. Sad, I know. I'm not a huge people-person I guess.
"It's time," Trevor announces, as he pushes himself up from his seat.
"Yay," I moan. I lost my excitement a few hours ago when weariness set in.
We make the ten-minute walk to my dorm, arms filled with rolls of Saran wrap. There's no denying we're about to do some major pranking if someone were to catch us. Fortunately for us, it's midnight, so most students are probably in bed. I know Mercy is because she never goes to bed after ten. She's one of those people.
---
Any ideas what's gonna go down in the next chapter?!?! :D
Don't forget to vote if you're having as much fun reading this as Trevor and Emma are gonna have in the next chapter... :p
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Porcelain Skin (NOW ON AMAZON KU)
Teen Fiction"When I tell you that he hates me, you'll probably assume it's because he's a jerk...but you'd be wrong. He's not a jerk. I am." --- Several years ago tragedy struck Emma's home, leaving her broken... like a cup with cracks spiraling and sli...
