More or Less

Chapter 6 • Misunderstood

──────────
Alisha's POV
──────────

Daylight wakes me.

I turn over and an absence welcomes me. I sit up and look around the room.

Are you serious?

Stephon was nowhere in sight. Again.

Why does he do that? Why does he leave?

I can hear activity outside the door. Everyone is up and around. Most likely cleaning up from yesterday.

I step out of bed and my head immediately pounds. I swoon and catch myself on the wall. I press my fingers against my temple. My cranium feels as if it's been repeatedly hit by a hammer.

Oh, hell... a hangover. I should've drank some water before I fell asleep.

Why didn't I? I usually do.

An image flashes across my mind, answering my question. Stephon's lips on mine as he slowly eased inside of me, hooking my legs around his waist..

I bite the inside of my lip.

Oh. That's why.

I smack my forhead,"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I scorned myself. He was supposed to be just a friend.

But do you care, Alisha?

I sigh. No. I don't.

I step into the shower. I scrub every inch of my body with a sweet-smelling bodywash. I even sit down and scrub my feet down, getting between every single toe. I scrub behind my ears and spend a while attemping to wash as much of my back as I could. I shampoo my hair twice and untangled it with a thin-toothed comb. I brush my teethe longer than I should and scrub my face just the same. When I finish, I felt good. Really good. I turn the shower off, step out, and wrap a towel around my body and hair.

When I step back into the room, I hear it. A faint buzzing sound. I glance back into the bathroom and pick my phone up from the counter. No texts or calls.

What was that noise?

I walk over to the bed and pull off the sheets. Something flips over and hits the wooden floor with a clank. I look over at the door before checking what it was. A white iPhone.

Stephon's phone.

I panick, pick it up, and check for any cracks on the screen.

I breathe, relieved.

None. Its case had protected it.

The phone vibrates in my hand, making me jump. The screen lights up, revealing a text message.

* Did you get the pictures ? & Yea , I like your kisses too. That party was crazy. Hope you liked the lapdance I gave you (; *

I read the text a million times over, hoping the words will change. But with each time, and the words remain, reality punches me in the gut. I unlock the phone and go to messages.

"Emily," I hear myself say.

He got her number and saved it, too.

I tap on their conversation and scroll to the top.

******

When I finish, my mind was blank. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the screen trying to figure out how to feel. I stare at the pictures she sent him. I stare at the times between each message that was sent. He texted her when I fell asleep. After we had...