One night.
That's all it took for August's life to turn from the girl everybody wanted to be, into the pile of shit dog owners refuse to pick up.
She had the perfect life.
Dating her best friend since childhood.
Straight A student, guaranteeing her...
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Don't forget to Vomment!❤
Tap.
Tap. Tap.
You know what happens when you mix ibuprofen with a heavy dose of cough syrup?
An overbearing imagination.
So, you can picture my shock and disappointment, when Aiden's face transforms into a slobbered and drooled over pillow.
I don't know if I should be more embarrassed over the make out session with my fucking pillow or the dream featuring the one and only Aiden Williams.
On instinct, my hands search my phone to see if there are any pending messages, but remember I left it with my backpack at the bottom of the stairs.
I want to bury myself in the sheets and curse myself for believing, even a second, that my dream was real.
It's never that easy. I mean, Heath Ledger sang on top of the bleachers when he messed up. I haven't even apologized.
Tap.
My eyes travel to the window, realizing that the tapping wasn't my inner self trying to knock some sense into me, much rather a rock hitting the window.
Tap.
I lift myself off the bed and grab the nearest thing for protection in case it's a psycho killer who's choice of weapon consists of aiming tiny rocks at random people's windows to see who's dumb enough to open them.
Or maybe it's my Romeo ready to rescue me from the grave I keep digging.
A flash of black catches my eye as I near the window, so, naturally, the most obvious thing to do is swing them wide open to try to scare whoever is out there with the monstrosity that is my bed hair and the remote control I have chosen as a weapon.
I see Ian's hand go down just in time to see the pebble fly through the air, as if its sole purpose was to create an indentation on my chest.
And, that it did.
This is why you should think things through!
"What the fuck are you doing?" I shout down to him, as I take cover in case he didn't notice I opened the window.
"Shit!" I see him back up, probably to get a better view of me and giving me a better view of him. His black hair ran messily on top of his head and he was sporting a new leather jacket. "I didn't know which window was yours." He shrugs, dropping the rest of the rocks he had in his hand.
"How about next time, instead of going all Romeo and Juliet on my ass, you try the doorbell?"
"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you, August, are the sun."
An involuntary smile breaks through my forcefield of emotions at how stupid he looked quoting Romeo and Juliet. He, the boy constantly sporting a leather jacket and tattoos running all the way up the side of his neck, would not make the ideal Romeo.
