Perfectly Unseen

51: quickie in the bathroom

Q u i c k i e
                 in the bathroom
                  ~+~+~+~

"Come on." Emma giggled, snuggling into my neck. "You can't hide in here all day."

"Yes. Yes I can." I countered, pushing her off with a kick as I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the warm covers over my head.

Emma sighed, ripping the blankets off of me once more as I growled at her. "You need to talk to Liam. I'm sure Dexter saw wrong!" She voiced confidently, clearly living in the land of denial.

I was right before. Liam and I would never be anything more than friends. His kind didn't mix with mine romantically unless it was in some cliché book written by a person who once had a crush on someone way out of their league: because heaven knows that book is going to be so totally different from the millions already written. But here, in reality? It didn't happen and that was all there was to it. Which was fine. I already had my fill of drama in Saint Avon and I wasn't looking for more. If he was with someone else, good for him. I wasn't going to mope around because of it.

Staying in bed until my chest loosened from this painful tightness wasn't moping. It was simply looking out for my wellbeing. I could have been in the midst of a cardiac arrest: going to school wasn't a good idea. In fact, I should have been just avoid the whole 'moving' thing for awhile. I mean, that was what the doctors told Aurora, right? I was just putting my knowledge to good use.

"Come on. You promised Missy you'd go with her to the Pregame festival tonight." She reminded me, "You're Ailie; Ailie doesn't break promises."

"Sure I do." I lied, already feeling my guilty conscious stab my stomach with anxiety. Dammit. "Low blow, Em." I muttered.

My traitorous best friend said nothing as I appeared out of the blanket, her blue eyes peering at me knowingly as I stuck my tongue out at her. She smiled, turning to the clothes she had picked out for me while we were arguing.

"So I was thinking black. It's classy yet still fits your dour mood." She held up high-waisted black shorts with a black cropped t-shirt along with brown leather accessories.

I groaned, falling back down into bed. I forgot about the living Barbie thing for a whole few glorious hours.

~+~+~

Lucas was once again missing: which was good, right?

It could have been the Stockholm Syndrome setting in, but I was actually somewhat...concerned for him. I mean, who missed three days of school in a row? Okay, so maybe my emotions were actually just rolling all over the place with, first off, that thing that happens every month that makes females a spitball of fire, tears, and chocolate. Secondly, my sister drowning me in worry and guilt. Next, Liam causing tightness in my chest and throat until mere breathing hurt. And last but definitely not least, Ashton throwing me head first into befuddlement and a swarm of conflicting thoughts. Each feeling and thought building up every other second as they filled my head with anxiety.

Needless to say, the day lasted 48 hours -at least- by the time Debate class rolled around. Ashton avoided me and I let him as I tried to grab hold of the small bit of sanity I had left. But it completely slipped away when I came face-to-face with the guy in charge of my state of oxygen deprived mind the moment I stepped into the classroom.

"You didn't answer my call last night." Liam bit his kissable and apparently kissed lip as his brown eyes watched me carefully.

My mouth was gaping open and close like a fish as a movie of him kissing some girl -who was better than I was in every way possible- played inside of my mind in a unending loop. My cheeks burned before I walked passed him and sat down in a vacant seat in the back. Away from his adorable look of shock and worry.

I had officially lost my mind and was on the verge of breaking into either sobs or laughter when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.

Thanks for the advice, Ail's. Talked things over with Mason last night...All night and then sum. ;) - B

Thank the heavens for Brandon. My nose scrunched up in disgust as I let a giggle of relief out.

No more girlfriends on the side then? I want to be at the wedding xx I quickly wrote back, feeling butterflies in my tummy for him.

I loved Mason. During my St. A's days we were super close. He could even be considered my real best friend since Cadi and I were shît to each other. He was the one thing I regretted leaving behind when I chose to switch schools.

No more gf's. I'm officially strictly dickly! But you can't say I didn't try. Chelsea gave it her all, but in the end I found her repulsive. He sent back immediately, making me cough to hide my loud burst of laughter.

*Shelby. You're horrible, bran. That poor girl. But... Can I get some advice? I sent, chewing my lip as Liam invaded my brain again.

*Shelby cheated on me before we even got to the bedroom; which I feel I should mention was an hour after meeting at a party where she proceeded to tell me I was hers. She had a quickie in the bathroom with the DJ after our first 'couple' kiss then fcked me not even an hour later. As for my advice: kiss him. Just walk up and kiss that gorgeous boy. If not for you, then for my now monogamously tied down ass.

—Which makes me very happy. Because my boyfriend is a hunk and gives me the best sêx of my life. Gorgeous boy has nothing on him.

He wishes. My boyfriend is lazy and likes to steal my phone and thencieidndkcpppp

"Ms Dawn, if you continue to giggle while I'm in the middle of a lecture, I will make you stand up here and tell us all so we can all enjoy the laugh with you." Ms Franklin raised her brows at me pointedly as I flushed into a tomato-looking creature. "Put the phone away and pay attention."

Oops.

I carefully avoided the pair of golden eyes as big light blue ones watched me suspiciously. Leave it to Emma to be suspicious over her friend smiling. Said a lot about me.

I stuck out my tongue at her making her repeat the action and turn back around in her seat with a chuckle. I wondered how much she knew. Knowing how smart she was, she was probably piecing all of my behaviour together in her head and figuring out the whole story just like that.

And that in itself was horrifying. If Emma knew who I had been or what I had done, how could she ever look at me the same way? I didn't want her to know the old me. I didn't want anyone to know the old me.