Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

Chapter eighteen: You can't do that

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩

Celebrating Cami's seventeenth birthday in London was exhausting.

She never failed to let everyone know of it, complained about having no free time to do what we liked, and demanded special treatment during the activities we were doing. When a cake was brought out in the restaurant we were all eating at for dinner, she even went as far as acting surprised and embarrassed, despite the fact that she was asking teachers if they were going to do it all day.

I let her off. It's her birthday. I wouldn't do the same, but to each their own.

Having said that, I feel utter relief now that I'm safely in my hotel room. I'm alone as Alex is hanging in his friends room until we're forced to be in our own rooms, and I have just come back from Cami's room after Lucy announced that she wanted to go to sleep without disruptions. I reel in the alone time as I watch Eastenders on the crappy hotel T.V.  after changing into pyjama bottoms and brushing my teeth.

I'm woken up by the sound of the door opening. Alex is back. The last thing I recall is watching T.V, so I must have fallen asleep while that's on as I'm not under the covers, but when I look at the T.V, I see that it's off. I'm not sure how long I was out for, but it's still pitch black outside.

"You know what's frustrating to me?" Alex says as he removes his shoes, leaning against the wall by the door. I give him a questioning look and shrug. "Having to share a room with you."

"Why?" I ask.

I know I asked, but I think I already know the reason. I would feel frustrated having to share a room with someone I liked. I also feel some frustration sharing a room with Alex too. I think it's the not knowing; not knowing if he's going to kiss me, or ask me out, or try to have sex with me, or anything. It makes me anxious.

It's still so weird to think that Alex likes me.

He gives me a look as if to say 'isn't it obvious?'. Yeah, it kind of is. He removes his hoodie and my breath catches in my throat because he chose to wear a tight fitting top today. He rolls his eyes, "Because we're in close proximity, and I have to see your face every time I go to sleep and every time I wake up."

"Is it because you like me?" I question, surprising myself at how straightforward that was. I've never been like that.

"No, it's because I fucking despise you." He spits, now stood still and glaring at me.

I've fully sat up now, the momentum of this statement hitting me. I'm silent of a few seconds, waiting for him to crack a smile and say he's joking so then I can scold him for scaring me like that. Yet, it never comes.

I hesitate, "You said on the plane—"

"That was all crap!" He cuts me off, laughing mockingly, "I can't believe you actually fell for it! It really goes to show how pathetic you are. It's hilarious. It was fun while it lasted, but I couldn't carry on pretending."