My Valentine

Eleven

Nightingale Phillips

For all of two days, he avoided me. He'd make dinner for us all then head to his room or the locked room next to his bedroom that he reserved as his 'study'.

I was so sure that whatever was in that room was similar to the type of furniture you'd see in a male's man-cave, if you know what I mean...

He left early for school so I was forced to catch a ride with Mrs. Beckford when I overslept and missed the bus.

I was sure the smell of scented candlesticks was radiating off me in huge waves by then.

The only time he actually spoke to me was during our tutoring lessons from 7-9P.M. When he asked me to read a passage from a textbook, or to just orally give the answer to a past exam question, he avoided looking me in the eyes and told me to get straight to the point.

This is why on Thursday morning when I woke up, I was caught off guard.

My phone's alarm (yes, I learnt my lesson and tried setting an alarm for the first time in my life) bellowed at 8:30 - school started at 8:15.

Technology cannot be trusted, I tell you!

Without giving the dream of accepting the homecoming crown at our prom later this year a second thought, I leaped out of bed, almost spraining my ankle in the process.

My pajama shorts were on the ground by the time I grabbed some pink skinny jeans from my temporary closet and a green T-shirt. I didn't have time to look cute today.

I ran into the bathroom, did my business and got into the shower. I was greeted by the lovely smell of filthy water cascading down my bare skin.

"Ew!" I shrieked, completely grossed out.

I backed away completely out of the water's range and almost slipped on the wet tiles.

Where was this water even coming from? Everything was perfectly fine last night!

My face fell at the thought of going to school smelling like something died in my clothes.

Huffing, I exited the shower. I'd have to talk to him about it tonight. That should be easy with the way he was avoiding me.

Maybe I could use Brooklyn's bathroom?

Brooklyn uses Marshall's bathroom, dumbass.

My subconscious was really mean sometimes.

Marshall was being all 'Mr. Valentine' again and was ignoring me. I was sure he would only ignore the fact that I showered in his bathroom unless he found some sort of clue.

I just had to be careful not to leave anything there... especially my underwear.

Plus, it was only showering! I wasn't going to invade his privacy or anything.

There was a slim chance he'd even find out. Leaving my clothes on my bed and grabbing a fluffy towel, I left my room.

His bedroom was easily accessible because he almost never locked his doors and forgot his keys in his car multiple times since I'd been staying with him.

His bedroom was impeccably clean, there was a place for everything and everything was in its place.

His room was probably the only area in the house which he had full control of. Brooklyn had his toys, colouring books, crayons and sneakers all over the place; I found his shoe in the kitchen's garbage can yesterday.

As soon as I entered the bathroom, I dropped my towel on the ground and left the door wide open as I stepped into the shower. In my defense, I was only going to take a five minute shower.