Faded -On Hold/Editing-

Chapter 43

*updates 21 years later* c.c sorry...
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"Isn't it weird for a brother to watch his sister take a bubble bath" I giggled. He did say he treats me like a sister...

"Fine then I'm your recent bestestest friend, savvy?" I cringed at the error that rolled off his tongue. Despite how moody or unstable I was, there was no way someone can get away with a grammatical error without my correction.

"It's just best, and savvy" I mocked smirkingly.

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Sleeping felt like heaven, but waking up? That's when everything hit me. Or maybe that was just my horrible hangover...

I cannot and will not believe that I made out with Ethan Amsel, it's very unprofessional of me. I didn't break up with Alan for more than a week and I've already sat on other guy's lap, and on top of that,  having a make out section with him twice.

But wait.. Alan did in fact do the same thing, a bit worse and rather humiliating. The memory was still fresh in my mind like a how a sober person would've remembered it.

I shouldn't care though, I really shouldn't but I can't help it. I can't help that I'm hurt by the fact that he was kissing that bitch and went home with her in front of everyone, making it memorable for them. These disturbing images were beginning to invade my mind that were worsening my damn headache.

Note to self: don't get drunk.

Alertness suddenly struck me, making me snap out of it. I gasped as I felt a movement beside me and saw a shirtless man lying there with his fine blonde mess buried in the purple pillow case.

"Zach what the fuck are you doing in my bed?!" I hissed at him, yanking him by the arm that was situated under the pillow.

"You said I can sleep with you" he grunted. "But not in that way. ." he awkwardly corrected himself. Ugh right, I just remembered how dumb I was for allowing him to sleep not just in the same room, but also in the same bed as me.

You must never trust Zachary with a drunk and high person...

"And piss off, it's Zachary"

"What happened to your jam hair" I decided to ignore his previous comment. Arguing in the morning over his damn name wouldn't ease my headache nor would it fix the fact that I'm pissed with him for listening to me last night.

"It's peanut butter. And you thought I'd sleep with that stuff smeared all over perfection??" he scoffed while gesturing to his sandy blonde hair.

"On your way out to get a life, shut the door. Because you and perfection aren't even synonyms, if that's what you were implying" a mocking smile played on my lips. His reaction was exactly what I expected, I kept that smirk carved into my lips even after he stubbornly wobbled out my room in his boxers and t-shirt when he realized he was at loss of words.

It took a great amount of energy to get out of bed and shower without bumping into anything. My muscles were so worn out, the hot water barely made it better.

Nothing today seemed to make anything better, even if something good was waiting for me right outside my window, right now.

I begun to hum out of boredom, at the same time I was blow drying my hair. A soft knock on my bedroom door caused me to seize my humming, I assumed it was some relative that came to visit because let's face it, everyone in this household had startling and loud knocks. Besides, my parents were somewhere in Europe -forgot where to be exact, maybe I'll ask Gabe later-