Roommates {h.s}

Chapter One

"Mum! Me and Cheyenne are going out." I yell, hoping my mother would hear.

"Alright, be back by ten at the least." She talked back as I fled out the door and straight into Cheyenne's car.

"So who is over tonight?" Chey asked as I buckled. I rolled my eyes, just telling her to drive.

"Hey, it's not my fault your mum has a relationship issue." She pressed the gas down, causing the car to jolt forward.

Cheyenne and I had been friends for a long while now, although I questioned it a lot, our friendship. She was close to being my only real friend I hung out with, while I was only one of the many people she hung out with. She had multiple others to choose from. So she was a bit on the rude side to me. She had always been the friend to get the guys, get the popularity blah blah blah. That's why I was happy to be attending a separate University then her this year. She was going into modelling and fashion, while I was going to school for my advanced musical arts, and writing.

Cheyenne stopped at a red light, checking over her outfit which consisted of: a mini mini mini skirt, a barely there tank top, and some heels.

Typical.

I, on the other hand, had skinny jeans, a blue v-neck and Vans on myself.

Typical.

"Earth to Rylie." Cheyenne interrupted my thinking.

"Huh?" I looked over as she unbuckled. I did as she had, getting out of the car. Cheyenne ran over to her latest boyfriend, Damian?

Sure, Damian.

I walked up next to her, keeping my head lowered and staying out of her way. People often asked why I was friends with Cheyenne when she always treated me this way and that, and all I had for an answer was usually; I don't know.

"I'm going to get a drink, come if you want." She looked at me before leaving in his arms. I sighed, going up the stairs and into the large house.

I didn't even know who was throwing this party let alone anyone here. The house was dark and I ended up bumping into multiple people. I didn't really like parties all that much, I just needed to get away from my house.

From my mother.

She would wake up tomorrow, all alone with various love bites. She chose men that were the opposite of my father. I felt bad for her, I mean, if my husband was killed in a train accident I would be messed up too.

Well, I guess I was messed up.

Maybe not all that much I had kind of just tried to forget about it, I just blamed the whole situation on myself, I guess. He was coming to see me at my grade four talent show.

I never actually got to preform.

"Want a drink?" A kid asked me. I looked up at him, his eyes dark brown and his hair almost black.

Maybe it was black.

"I don't drink." I answered, loud enough to barely be heard over the pounding music. He chuckled a little.

"Harry! This girl doesn't drink." He called his friend over. I gazed the boy up and down, stopping at his curly hair.

"I can change that." He grinned, grabbing a drink and stepping over to me. He raised an eye brow at me before taking my hand and physically placing the cup of alcohol in my hand. He looked somewhat familiar.

His touch made my heart flutter.

Excuse you heart, but nobody asked you how you felt. Ever.