Shortcake - A Richpez Story

Chapter 9

Lauren's POV

At first I was cold. Then I was really, really cold. Cold and wet. My eyes snap open and I'm met with a shower spraying water into them, to which I let out a startled squeak.

"Jesus, Lauren! You scared the crap out of us!" A voice screeches.

I lift up my thirty pound hands and press them to my eyes. I open them and things come into focus. I sit, bare legs sprawled out in a white bathtub, a shower head dripping tiny pellets of ice. I shiver again. I got colder, which I didn't know was possible until this moment.

Jon, Rob, and Joey look at me, the same concerned expression on their faces. Making me highly uncomfortable.

"Gosh, guys, I'm not that much to look at," I mutter, trying to crack a joke.

Joey shakes his head. "C'mon. Up you go." He pulls me up and helps me out of the bathtub.

"You could've just poured a glass of water on my face or something," I say, slightly annoyed the pulled me all the way into the shower.

The guys look at each other and Rob shrugs. "We figured you'd enjoy a nice cold shower, instead."

I roll my eyes. "Mhm, yeah, sure. Shouldn't you guys be at rehearsals since you start in like five minutes.

This time Jon and Rob look at each other, and then reply to me in unison "bye."

Just Joey and me alone this time. I want to shrink away from him, but I also want him to hold me and not let go. Is that so bad? No, I shouldn't be thinking about these things. He broke up with Cas this month, and I'm pretty sure he loved her. He had to be in love with her. He's an honest person, and that's just another reason to love him.

My stomach growls. Well...shit.

"C'mon, Lo, we're gonna have breakfast," Joey sighs, suddenly exhausted.

I feel for arguing with him so much. I should've just accepted his help. What a drama queen I am.

We go out to the living room and Joey makes us eggs. Though I'm terrified of consuming them and all of the calories, I finish the eggs. My stomach feels like it's about to burst, and I feel incredibly nauseous. My head swims, and I know if I stand up I'll fall back down again. That thought slightly concerns me, but I ignore it. I have the urge to get rid of it all. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, it's just like regular vomiting, except self-induced. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. No, not at all, but I'm so tired.

"Hey, Lauren," Joey says, "I'm going to go pick up Jaime. Will you be ok by yourself? You can always text me if something happens or you need me."

I smile at him and nod, holding up my phone for emphasis. I let him leave, then look at the bathroom. Should I? No, that would be rude to Joey. I'd be wasting the food he gave me.

As I ponder my options, a knock at the door tears me out of my head. Joey? Already? The drive is a good fifteen minutes away to Jaime and I's hotel. I stand up, using the wall for support, and make my way over to the door. I reach to open the door, but lock it instead, suddenly wary. I stretch on my tip toes to look through the peep hole. I can't really see, but I know that forehead anywhere. It has a scar from the hairline going an inch downwards, and it came from a game of kickball in seventh grade.

I back away from the door as quietly as possible, but my ever-lasting dizziness causes me to stumble and fall. I knock over something on the coffee table, but I pay no attention to it, as I'm paralyzed with fear.

Another knock, more urgent this time. More violent. "Lauren, I know you're in there! And I know you're alone! Your buddy's car is gone, so open the door!"

The doorknob rattles, and I'm glad that I locked the door. Otherwise, I'd be screwed. I turn around and reach for my phone. How did he know where I was? How did he know where Joey lived? Wait, he dropped me off here a couple times. But that was years ago, so how could he still remember. Wait, Jaime? What if Will threatened Jaime, or got in the room? Oh, God.

Lauren: Joey he's here he pfound me Joeu olease come backk

Joey: on the way, don't open the door until the police come

Lauren: plese hurry

My heart is pounding. I clutch the phone to my chest, press my back against the couch, squeeze my eyes shut, and pray.

And that's when the door slams open, and Will looks me straight in the eyes.