What About Me?

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Peyton's pov:

This doesn't feel right...

I pull away, revealing Jays puzzled face staring at me in confusion...

Jay?

What?

I shake my head rapidly, trying to comprehend what's going on, my eyes still tightly shut.

As I opened my eyes, I see Eric looking at me in shock.

Why was I imagining Jay?

"P- Peyton?"

Realisation hits me, of what I don't want to believe. I finally break the tension by letting my thoughts in a rushed flurry.

"I gotta go!" Without another word, I dart up and start making a b-line towards the ladder.

As I'm leaving, Eric grabs my wrist pulling me back.

"Peyton!"

"WHAT!" I demand back, as light tears erupt in my eyes, tears that I refuse to let show.

"Where are you going? What was all that about?" He says starting with a harsh tone but softening slightly.

Instead of answering, I rip my arm out of his grasp and walk away without another backwards glance.

Once I get down to the busy party, my main priority was to get home.

Shuffling through everyone, I eventually bump into Jay..

Who would've thought?

"Ah, sorry Pey-"

Before he could finish I run off to the exit of the party.

To my luck, they had already docked the yacht, so I was able to walk home and ponder on whatever just occurred in the past 2 hours...

Throughout the long stroll home, the picture of me kissing what I imagined Jay, but was actually Eric, floods my brain. Stressing me out every time I think of it.

But I can't stop..

Once I reach my house, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing is coming out in short ragged breaths, and my mind has gone hazy with sorrow and confusion. Pushing open the door without hesitation, I drag myself up stairs to my bedroom and flop myself on the bed. Next thing I know, I'm in a mass deep sleep.

What it feels to be 10 minutes later, I get woken up by birds chirping and beaming strips of sunlight blinding my eyes through the gaps in the curtains.

It is in fact the morning.

I slowly bring myself to sit up on the bed. And then I realize my headache is kicking in.

Although I start to feel really dizzy and nauseous, I heave my exhausted body out of bed and downstairs so I can fulfill my empty stomachs ache to eat. Once present in the kitchen, I swing open the cupboard and the fridge to get my bowl, the cereal and the milk. Then I follow by opening the cutlery draw and grabbing a spoon. I then drag my lazy ass to the sitting room to munch on my newly made breakfast.

As I mind my own business on the sofa, happily munching on my cereal, a voice pops up next to me, bringing me out off deep reverie.

"Good sleep?" I jump, the voice belongs to Patrick.

"Fuck you" I retort

"Woah! Someones pms-ing" He jokes. Not really Patrick, just incredibly grouchy!