Chapter 13

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Thank you so much for 100 reads! I did not expect that, especially for my first published book!💕

⚠️ DISCLAIMER: There will be underage drinking in this chapter or the next. I do not condone it nor do I encourage it. Under age drinking is against the law. 

On my way home I couldn't get one thing off my mind. 

Why did Bakugou care so much?

He always seemed like he hated Izuku, and would literally tell him to 'go die'.

So why did he suddenly change his mind and care?

I finally got home after a long couple hours.

The time flew by like a butterfly in the hot summer.

Within the blink of an eye it was already 8:45pm.

I decided to get ready for Denki's party.

I walked into my walk in closet and picked out my clothes.

The clothes that caught my eye was a plain black t-shirt  and a pair of black trousers with thin, barely noticeable stripes. And to top it off, a belt and a few bracelets.

I didn't want to wear my expensive designer clothing, because a party with a bunch of drunken teenagers can be quite messy.

Shoto's outfit below

I layed on my bed, starfish like, each of my limbs being separated and spread from each other and I stared at the ceiling

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I layed on my bed, starfish like, each of my limbs being separated and spread from each other and I stared at the ceiling.

Contemplating whether or not I would bring my own drinks, or drink the one's at the party.

If I brought my own, I had the chance of getting in bigger trouble, since my father would most likely know his drinks were gone. To the contrary, the drinks at the party would probably be cheap and disgusting.

I came to the conclusion to bring my own.

I checked my phone to see the time.

9:00pm read the clock.

Estimating it takes 20 minutes to drive to Izuku's and then another 15 to get to Denki's house, I had roughly 25 minutes to spare.

I began tip toeing out of my room, sliding on slippers to limit the noise coming from my footsteps.

I crept downstairs, having to walk down 2 flights of stairs as quiet as a mouse.

My father kept all his cases of beer in a cooler, stored in the basement.

The stairs creaked no matter how slow and soft I stepped.

I imagined myself stepping on clouds, floating through the sky.

I dragged my hand along the wall while walking down the stairs. 

My fingertips against the wall made a small hushing sound.

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