Why You Shouldn't Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes

Bonus Chapter

This is a little bonus chapter I wrote a few years ago. It's really just fluff, but some people were asking me about it and I thought it might cheer some people up right now. I hope you'll enjoy! :)

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I had already known what it was like to miss someone before I had left home. Like when Emily had flown to Europe for two weeks with Liam right after our graduation. Or like those few days when my mom had been on a class trip with her fourth-graders and Maya had stayed at a friend's house, where I couldn't see her.

However, nothing could have prepared me for this feeling in my chest whenever I thought of Hunter after almost two months of not being face-to-face with him.

Going to a college that was more than a nine-hour car ride away from home had been a hard decision to make. When I had first received a letter stating that I had gotten a scholarship for one of the biggest art schools in the country, I hadn't known what to do. To be honest, I had thought about not going and looking for a nearer college instead, if Hunter and all of my friends hadn't convinced me to not pass up on this chance.

And they had been right with what they had said, at least in some aspects; the school was perfect for me, I was having fun, I did learn a ton of interesting stuff, everyone was really nice and yes, this was an amazing opportunity.

Their argument that I wouldn't even get homesick or miss any of them because we could still talk on the phone or video chat every day, on the other hand, had turned out to be one big, blatant lie. Nightly Skype calls and a ridiculous amount of text messages that were exchanged each day were nowhere near enough to compensate the huge distance separating us.

Hunter and I had made it a ritual to video chat every evening, but in the end that had only made things worse. Hearing his voice and seeing him on the screen, inches away from me but impossible to touch, had proven to be a bittersweet form of torture. Which, of course, didn't stop me from subjecting myself to it night after night, because it was still better than not seeing him at all.

I had told Nate all about this, whining to him every time we were on the phone, but instead of sympathy, all I ever got from him were quiet chuckles and teasing comments.

Like right now, as he said: "Come on, Jules, you're being dramatic. When are you coming again? In six, seven days?"

I scowled at nothing in particular as I pressed the phone to my ear and looked over at the calendar that was hanging at the wall. For the past few weeks I had crossed out the days that had passed, working up to the date circled in red, Going home scrawled into the tiny box below it. "Eight. Eight days, Nate. That's more than a week! It's 192 hours!"

Some quiet rustling sounded through the speaker. I could hear muffled laughter, not just Nate's, but also the bright sound of Alexis' giggling.

"Yeah, you guys can laugh," I huffed. "You can see each other every weekend."

"Sorry," Alexis said. "We know how hard this is for you. But hey, maybe you'll see him sooner than you might think!"

"What are you-"

"Listen, we've really got to go now, we have tickets for a concert that starts in, like, three hours," Nate interrupted me. I could still hear the grin in his voice. "Be just a little more patient. Trust me."

He hung up on me before I could even think of a reply.

Staring darkly at my phone, I slumped onto my bed. When I looked over at the clock, I realized that there were only twenty minutes left before I had to go down to the gallery for the exhibition that would be taking place there.