Chapter Twenty-Four: The Fast and Fierce and Forever

279K 6.9K 1.5K
                                    

**UPDATED A/N: I'm trying to re-post this to see if it works. I didn't realize it wasn't working because on the website I could see votes and comments and then when I checked for comments this morning, I saw all the messages. Here's trying again. Thanks..

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for patiently waiting for the newest chapter. This might surprise a few of you but as with most of my stories, there tends to some rhyme and reason for why things happen. I hope you enjoy this one!

***

The sun was killing me. 

Either that or it was going to turn me into a serial killer if it didn’t stop trying to blind me.

I groaned as I groped through the lump of clothes and bed covers for my cellphone which was rending the air with an obnoxious and sassy ringtone.

"If you don't shut it, I'm going to hurl it out the window," Zoe said from under the pillow where her head was buried. 

“Then I'm going to drop a rock over it and crush it to pieces," Jillian added from behind a large silver bowl of half-eaten strawberries that were starting to rot. 

My hand landed on the screeching and vibrating piece of monster and through squinted eyes, I tried to read the bright screen to see what the alarm was for.

It wasn't an alarm.

"Hello?" I croaked, my mouth and throat dry and cottony from the dozen mixed drinks the three off us happily tossed back last night when it seemed like a brilliant idea. In hindsight, it wasn’t.

"Max, Bart's here."

"Who's Bart?"

"Your grandfather."

"Who's this?"

"Luke. Your boyfriend."

I blinked my bleary eyes. "Oh."

Then I bolted into an upright position, pain lancing through my skull. "Oh!"

The unceremonious reaction might have been contributed, first of all, to the realization that Luke was now my boyfriend, and second to the fact that he just mentioned my grandfather.

“What do you mean my grandfather’s there?” I demanded, wincing at the jab on my head at every word. “Where is there?”

“At your apartment,” Luke replied not so patiently. “It’s almost one in the afternoon, Max, and when you weren’t responding to my texts, I thought I’d come by and see if you’re home. You’re still not but your grandfather is here, sitting out on the front steps of your building, waiting for you.”

I pushed my hair off my face and looked around the mess of Zoe’s gigantic bedroom. None of us were on the bed. We were all sprawled on the big fluffy mattresses we’d put together on the floor. Clothing from some of the shopping we’d done yesterday afternoon were heaped everywhere along with a clutter of makeup, bags and shoes and nail polish bottles. We hit up the mall and the salon and spa straight from work yesterday afternoon. Then we did a little shopping—well, Jillian and I did because I wouldn’t call Zoe’s haul a little shopping. Then we went out for some great sushi dinner at a fancy place somewhere (and it was the only thing I let Zoe pay for) and stocked on some liquor before heading back to Zoe’s penthouse apartment. We tried on a bunch of clothes, did each other’s makeup, changed up our nail colors, watched a marathon of old Freddie Prinze Jr. romantic comedies, talked and had rounds of cocktail drinks, danced once we got drunk enough and promptly collapsed into sleep. It was like sleepovers except we were a bunch of grown women who could afford our own junk food and booze and had no curfew. Since I’d never been quite a normal teenager growing up, it was all new to me but it was so much fun, to just have girl friends for the first time in my life, that I couldn’t regret it despite the ugly hangover I’d sworn I wouldn’t acquire.

The Risk of FallingWhere stories live. Discover now