A Trip With My Bad Boy

Chapter 8.

I wasn't too mad about the phone.

To be honest, I didn't really like it anymore anyway. I've had it for what seems like forever and I was planned on getting a new one soon anyway.

If you think about it, this was going to be a hilarious story when we think back to it in a couple of years.

"So, what should we do now?" I asked excitedly as I skipped down the street next to a walking Alice.

"I think you should get home, girl," she suggested but I wasn't having any of it.

Obviously the alcohol was wearing off way faster by her than by me so I was still almost as drunk as before.

"No," I whined and grabbed onto her arms. "I wanna do something exciting!" I exclaimed. "Let's toilet paper someone's house OR we can buy silly string and spray it everywhere!"

We kept on walking down the street in the dark night. Only a few cars passed us every now and then so it was almost peaceful.

"Kennedy, it's late. Tell me where you're staying so that I can bring you back," Alice replied, not getting persuaded by my awesome ideas.

"You're no fun anymore. I like the old Alice better," I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest like a little child but told Alice where the hotel was so that she could lead the way because a small part of my conscience knew it was better to get back.

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As I walked through the doors of the hotel after saying bye to Alice, I felt content. I definitely wasn't happy. The alcohol was slowly wearing off and all of my problems came rushing back at me. But it seemed like forever since I've done something so care free. Not giving any fucks about what I was doing. I missed that.

Apparently, I was too caught up with my thoughts because out of no where, Mr. Peterson appeared, looking as mad as ever.

Oh shit.

Not only was I way out past curfew but I'm sure I still smelled liquor and looked like a mess.

I was afraid to look in a mirror, scared of what I looked like. I could weakly imagine how I looked. And it wasn't pretty.

"Miss Andrews! Come with me, now!" he spoke in a stern and angry tone.

I had a slight feeling that I was in big trouble.

I followed him, even though I was starting to get a huge headache and felt like I was going to pass out from sleep deprivation any second.

As we walked down a hall, Mr. Peterson kept looking back at me, checking if I was still following him and hadn't run off.

I rolled my eyes.

Did I look like I could possibly run more than 3 feet right now?

We passed a couple of doors until we stopped in front of a door and Mr.Peterson unlocked it, stepping in.

Um...no way am I going into an empty hotel room with him. I wasn't that drunk.

But as I peered around the corner I could see that there were two more teachers in there. One was my history teacher. I didn't really like her but I guess that was only natural. We had this mutual relationship where if I didn't bother her, she wouldn't bother me. The other dude I didn't recognise.

"Miss Andrews, would you please step inside. I think we have somethings to discuss," my history teacher said.

I sighed quietly, obviously not being able to get around this.