LaMelo Ball - By Ari

Fourteen

The irritating sound of birds happily chirping outside my window made me sit up groggily and rub my aching forehead, full of fogged memories of the prior night. The longer I stayed awake, stretched and rubbed my eyes, the dramatic scene with LaMelo and me passing out began coming back to me. I could barely remember the stinging of tears in my eyes when I saw Melo with that bitch Nevaeh Whitmarsh, but I couldn't recall anything after.

Wait... how did I get home?

Surely Chanelle couldn't have carried me home and LaMelo, well, he's so skinny that he looks sick so there was no way that he could have picked me up and hauled me all the way back to my house. My cheeks burned at the thought.

Sighing, I blew a small breath of air out of a small portion of my mouth to move a few stray strands out of my face as I saw something white out of the corner of my eye on my nightstand. My breath hitched in my throat when I noticed that there was a small piece of crumpled paper that was obviously torn from a loose-leaf notepad sitting by my lamp. I reached my sore arm out and slowly inched it towards me until I could grasp it and hold it in both hands. There was some sloppy ass handwriting towards the bottom and I mumbled the words to myself;

"No need to worry, I got you home in time before your parents woke up.

Don't ask how I got you in the house, just know that the shrubs beneath your window are completely crushed and basically leafless now. Sorry about that.

-Melo."

Shaking my head to myself, I crumpled up the note even more into a small ball and shot it into the waste bin close to my bedroom door, flopping back onto my comfortable mattress and placing a pillow on my face just for the hell of it. The throbbing in my head was distant but it was definiately still there, my stomach seemed to be in the same whirls as last night and I couldn't stop it. I just wanted to sink into my bed and never, ever, ever come back out.

-

A few hours passed and my parents eventually woke up at around noon, while I stayed and sulked around in my room for hours and hours on end, staring up at my ceiling at times and mindlessly scrolling through my boring Instagram timeline. My mom checked in on me several times - at least twice every fifteen minutes or so - because she thought I was catching the flu or something, the way I was laying and moping around as if I were actually sick, since I'm usually up and around at this time of day; either hooping with Nelly or just doing something productive. She took my temperature, she gave me chicken noodle soup, but nothing she did could heal my shattered heart.

I wanted to tell her what really happened because I desperately needed someone to talk to but she would be appalled if I told her I had snuck out behind her and my father's back. I really wished Chanelle could've came over but she was busy out shopping at the mall with her cousins that were in town for the weekend. Ugh, the disappointment.

"Do you need anything else, sweetie?" My mom felt my head for what felt like the millionth time and looked at me with that annoying pity stare she always gave me when she knew I was under the weather. I slightly shook my head and she stood up from the edge of my bed and was on her way out when the grand ring of the doorbell echoed throughout the whole house, making my mom stop suddenly in her tracks but then hurry to retrieve the door. Inwardly groaning, I hopelessly gazed at my ceiling fan while I heard a few voices that I couldn't make out. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they would fall out of my head when I realized my mother had said, "Her room is the last door on the right," and soon enough, the soft pounding of shoes on the hardwood floor were making their way closer and closer to my room. I instantly closed my eyes and hoped that whoever was coming to visit was going to see I was asleep and leave, but when I heard the sudden, loud creak of my opening door it made me jump so high that my eyes flinched back open and I was forced to look at the large figure standing in my doorway.

LaMelo.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he walked to my bed with the familiar sway in his step that he's always had, along with that irritating smirk that mostly anyone would want to slap off. His presence annoyed me more than it frazzled me.

I didn't reply with a tease or dog on his bummy appearance and I could tell it made it a little awkward for him, since I'm always joking.

Sitting on the edge of my bed in the exact place that my mother sat on, he put his hand on my leg close to my ankle and patted it gently, spreading his fingers across my comforter and obviously observing the girly pattern.

"You probably just want to be alone, but I had to check and make sure that you were okay."

Aw. How sweet of your dumb ass.

I licked my lips but still said nothing. Not even a thank you left my mouth.

"It was a struggle getting you up to your room without actually going in your house," he chuckled awkwardly. "You're, uh, heavier than you look."

Is that a fat joke, dickhead?

"You should have told me you were going to the party. We could have hung out as soon as you got there."

You were too busy shoving your face in Nevaeh Whitmarsh's tits.

"Cori?"

I looked up.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked.

LaMelo shifted in his position and I could tell that he was highly uncomfortable, but mostly confused. I was quiet but I actually wanted to rip his balls off and feed them to him.

"I'm fine," I mumbled and I was surprised at how froggish my voice sounded. "So you can leave now."

His eyebrows raised and the disappointment in his eyes made me wince with guilt. He reminded me of a small puppy and hurting his feelings was like I slapped him right across the face with no regrets.

But he hurt me first.

Way, way, way deeper.

There was a long pause in the air before LaMelo stood but he still lingered as if he wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out. My eyes narrowed at him as I waited for what was about to come out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

That's the best you could come up with?

Wait, maybe he was about to admit that he did something he probably now regretted; that whole scene with Nevaeh. I mentally prepared myself for him to come clean as he licked his lips and seemed to be looking everywhere else in the room except at my face.

"For?" I jabbed.

He slowly shrugged.

Wow.

Sighing, I closed my eyes again even though he was still there. "Um...I'm tired."

"O-okay. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow? If you're feeling better and more like yourself, I was wondering if you wanted to come over and chill with Zo and Gelo and I; we could play some dominoes or something...maybe?"

It felt horrible to say, but I cleared my throat and ripped off the band-aid.

"Probably not."

My eyes remained closed as I heard a little, uncomfortable silence. I heard him inch closer, bend down, and soon enough, I felt his lips gently plant on my cheek.

It almost burned.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to just jump out of this stupid damned bed in a fury and point my finger at him. How dare you kiss me with the same dirty lips you kissed Nevaeh with?!

I heard LaMelo's heavy footsteps as he walked out of my room and down the hall. I could almost imagine how bad he felt but I didn't really care, for the most part. I had every right to be standoffish with that asswipe.

I thought about hating him.

But I couldn't.