Misbehave // Alex Gaskarth

Chapter Eight ~ Careful

Song: Hello Brooklyn - All Time Low

Alex~

Alone, I was an hour into the Liam Neeson movie after Abella left. I didn't bother going after her because frankly, I didn't see a point in it. We kissed, but so what? At the time, I didn't think too much of it. It was sort of like a mistake to me, something that could easily be forgotten with an action movie starring the world greatest actor- Liam Neeson. Of course, the movie didn't really help. Since I'd seen the movie about thirty times, I wasn't all that into it.

Around the time when Liam Neeson announced that he was going to kill the guy over the phone, the doorbell rang. I sighed and forced myself off the couch before starting for the door. A small, very small, part of me was hoping that it was Abella. I knew that this was very unlikely because she left over an hour ago. When I opened the door, I felt a little disappointed to see Martin standing on the porch instead of Abella.

He was panting, out of breath with swollen lips and frantic eyes. "Holy shit, dude," he pushed past me and entered my house. I felt incredibly annoyed that he just waltzed in without asking if it was okay. How ironic because it seemed like I did that with every person I met. I followed Martin into the living room and sat down on the La-Z-Boy. He collapsed on the couch, seeming exhausted as if he had just ran ten miles without stopping.

"What the fuck happened to you?" I asked him, leaning forward as my elbows pressed against my thighs. Martin shook his head, a huge grin spread across his face. He took a few minutes to catch his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Martin sighed contently, "You will never guess who I almost fucked." He said, a triumphant look in his eyes. I groaned, falling back into the recliner with annoyance. Every time Martin 'scored' with a hot girl, he'd come and brag about it to me. It was annoying as fuck, but I guess I couldn't blame him. Sometimes, I did the same. Yes, I realize that it's incredibly fucked up to brag about sleeping with a girl, but at the time- I didn't give a shit about anyone but myself.

"Who?" I asked, my voice dripped with heavy sarcasm. Martin ignored this and continued with his story telling.

He clasped his hands together, grinning like an idiot on drugs. "After work, I got a text from Marci. She asked me to come over because she needed some help with my opinion on this fashion shit she was doing." Marci Crawford was one of the hottest girls when we were in high school. Every guy always wanted to get into her pants, but no one ever could. It wasn't until after high school that she started spreading her legs for every guy that payed her an ounce of attention.

"She was showing me this design she made," Martin continued, "and I don't know how it happened, but she just started like, attacking me with her mouth. God, we almost fucked but guess who came and ruined the moment?" He asked, his mouth twitched into an annoyed smile. There were thousands of possible girls who could have arrived at such a time, but the first face that came to mind was that of Jesse Coleman's.

I couldn't help but laugh at this. Jesse was the type of girl who'd sleep around with everyone. Girls, boys, shemales, she didn't give a shit. That was Jesse Coleman, a girl willing to do anything that had legs- working or not. Although Jesse slept with almost every soul in Baltimore, she would always start shit with other people for sleeping with someone. She was a hypocrite, but I didn't really care about what she did. To me, she was just a quick fuck.

Martin groaned once he realized that I had figured out the person who'd cock blocked him. "Jesse just fucking barged into Marci's apartment without warning! I don't fucking know if she like, had a spare key or something, but I felt so pissed off. How many people can say that they've slept with Marci Crawford?" He asked.