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Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
"Someone answer the fuckin door!" I shouted from the floor of the living room. The damn door bell woke me up from my peaceful slumber.
Who the hell rings the fuckin doorbell this early in the morning?! Because I know damn well that the sun hasn't come up yet!
I snuggled deeper into the couch cushion and pulled my blanket closer around me. Hopefully the person on the other side will leave when no one comes to the door.
"Go answer the door," someone mumbles from behind me.
What the - I turn around back and see Argent cuddling with her favorite stuffed animal - Mr. Blue - underneath the coffee table. She looks so peaceful as if she's sleeping in her bed rather than the floor. And underneath a table. Old habits die hard.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Oh my gosh. Doesn't this person have common sense? When no one comes to the door, you stop ringing the damn doorbell and leave. Common sense, people!
I rolled around a bit until the ringing pissed me off and I am more than determined to rip off whoever is at the door head off. I sat up, yanking the blankets off me.
As I'm trying to stand, I look around and notice the living room in a complete mess. Not a party mess, but close. Scarlett went a little cray cray last night and stole a bottle of vodka from Dad's liquor cabinet.
She drank probably half of it, Argent only got in two shots before passing out - how she ended up under the coffee table is unknown because I passed out after the my fifth soda can.
What? That happens. And getting drunk is only when I'm in the mood.
Scanning the room, its not that bad. Toilet paper covers most of the fire place, dog food scattered all over the floor - Scarlett threw a wedding for Battle and Mr. Blue, she was flower girl - then there's cans of soda pop and an empty bottle of vodka covering the coffee table.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-do --
"Are you off your meds?!" I threw the door open.
Ah hell.
There. Outside my door, stood three guys. Three who I highly despise at the moment, they stood with surprise looks. Axel stood off to the side, looking like hell and cradling his head with one hand. Trevor on the other hand, is wearing his usual arrogant, pain in the ass smirk with one hand resting on our doorbell. Blake is just standing next to him, looking every bit bored, until the door opened.
Their gazes look me over instead of speaking up. It takes me a while until I notice the state I'm in. Or dressed. I look down at my night wear a groan soon following.
I'm only wearing a pair of cotton shorts that ends mid thigh with a spaghetti strap. Shit. Before they could say anything or wrap up their rude staring shit, I slammed the door shut.
And locked it.
It doesn't take long for the pounding to begin. "Oh c'mon, smackle."
"Saph, I have to take a fuckin piss." Axel groans through the door, "open the door."
Yeah no. "Then go home. That goes for you too, Trevor. And that friend of yours."
Someone sighs from behind me, I whip around - almost tripping myself - and find Argent and Lilac standing behind me wih a hand on their hip.
"This is what happens when I answer the door," I say, not bothering to look sorry.
Why should I? They deserved it, right? Of course!
YOU ARE READING
I Just Don't Fit In
Teen FictionNot fitting in is the best. In Sapphire's case. For the last seventeen years she's been living in her sisters shadows. Getting into some trouble, the black sheep in the family, not living up to expectations and just doing whatever pleases her. Exact...
