•Coming Soon• That Bradford Bad Boy

There's a Stranger On My Bed

I look around my room, still kind of shaken. My head pounds.

I might be a seventeen year old girl, but being around a guy in terms of, well, relationship things, is scary to me. My brother or not how was I supposed to be comfortable in that situation? I guess that made me different from most seventeen year old girls.

I walk into my bathroom and lock the door behind me. I put my dirty clothes into the wooden wicker basket that was sitting under the cabinets. I'll empty it into the washing machine when it gets full.

I step into the shower and don't bother with the temperature panel. I just turn the nozzle and let the water spray onto my shivering body. Thank God it was already hot.

I finish my shower and step out onto the cool tile. I wrap myself in a blue towel. I remember I had left my pajamas on my be. I step out of the bathroom my wet hair dripping onto the rug I put down earlier. I close the door to my bathroom, and wipe some water out of my eyes.

I turn to my bed to get my pajamas and scream, almost dropping my towel.

The guy that Taylor and I had thrown the paper at earlier was sitting on my bed twiddling his thumbs.

He looks up when he hears me scream, but he doesn't look like he had been caught it someone's room. He looked amused. I try to say something but it comes out more like a weak gurgle.

He smirks at me. Then he stands and starts walking toward me. I walk back instinctively. I'm eventually pressed against the wall and his face is only 9 inches away from mine.

He had thick eyebrows. I look to his eyes and stare. Something about his eyes made me feel like I was drowning. Like I was falling out of a roller coaster. Or like I had just woke up from a nightmare. Or like when Veronica Roth killed one of my favorite characters. I have to force myself to look away from them. I look a little farther down. He had a sharp jawline, and stubble on his chin.

"I think you, uh," He stops as if choosing the right words. He had a heavy Bradford accent. "Lost this." He said holding up a little balled up wrapper. The same one Taylor had thrown.

I press myself harder against the wall trying to create more space between us, but it only makes my back hurt. Why did he have to be so close?

He throws the paper behind him and I hear it hit the floor.

For a few seconds he just stares. Then he pulls away from me and walks toward my window. The same one Taylor had opened. I had never closed it.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I've got other things to do. You might wanna keep this window closed. And just so you know, there are other ways to get my attention." He puts one foot out of the window then the other and then he's gone.

I realize that I hadn't been breathing the entire time, as my lungs begin to ache. I gasp in a huge breath and then let one out. In out in out, I tell myself retrieving the paper from the floor.

I close the window and slide the curtains shut. I quickly put on my white tank top and snowman pajama pants not wanting to do anything else but be in actual clothing.

I sit there shaking when I see something black in the corner of my eye. He had left his jacket. I stand up, picking up his jacket.

I guess I didn't exactly mean to look through his pockets. I just kind of did. There was nothing in most of them.

A phone in one of them, I was about to look in the inside pockets when I hear someone clear their throat.

I whip my head around to see the guy staring at me.

"What? Where you're from do people just look through other peoples belongings?" He says gesturing to his jacket. He didn't look angry, just amused, like he did when he had snuck in the first time.

"What do people just break into other people's houses here?" I shoot back at him.

"Wow, I didn't think you knew how to talk since you weren't saying anything earlier. Was I not invading your personal space?" He says smirking again.

Why did I like it when he smirked?

"Or," he says walking closer to me. I keep backing up until once again I was pressed against the wall. "Did you enjoy this?"

"Trust me," I say, my voice suddenly struggled. Why did it have to come out struggled? Great now he knows that him being so close was making me uncomfortable. "Trust me, I'm not enjoying this." I say pushing his jacket into his chest and slide under his arm and away from him. I point to the window and look at him.

"Out." I say my voice stronger.

He laughs. "Oh so now you're just gonna kick me out?"

I nod. "Yeah I am. Goodbye." I say.

He shrugs and walks to the window with his jacket over his shoulder.

Just as he steps out the window his head pops back into the window.

"You might want to latch the window." He says then he's gone.

I latch the window like he says, and close my curtains all the way.

Taylor comes in the room a few minutes after the guy leaves.

"Why do you keep screaming?" Taylor asks tiredly. I look at the clock and see that it was 1 am.

What? When did it get so late?

I hold up the wrapper and hand it to her. Her eyes get big and she looks up at me.

*******

I finish telling Taylor what happened, and by then her eyes were as big as saucers.

"He was here??" she asks me, with an insane look in her eyes.

"Yes." I say shivering thinking of it.

"And he basically in your space?" she says looking like she was watching a movie and it had gotten to the good part.

"Yes?" I say looking at her like she was crazy.

"Did you kiss?" she asks smiling like an idiot.

"A complete stranger? No, we didn't kiss." I say.

"Oh well your boring." She says leaving the room going back to her own and I hear the door close behind her.

I sigh tiredly and get into my own bed.