Chapter Sixteen: Victory For The Socially Inept Of The World

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Chapter Sixteen: Victory For The Socially Inept Of The World

Around the time of my ninth birthday, my mom had another one of her 'brilliant' ideas. She's had a lot more since then but that one took the cake, no pun intended. Half of my class (the ones with affluent parents) were invited for a birthday sleepover. She hired a party planner and everything. Her goal was for me to extend my circle of friends beyond Nicole.

Maybe she'd known what a major witch my BFF would turn out to be. I should've listened to her.

Anyway, imagine my shock, disgust and body paralyzing, brain freezing fear when both the Stone boys showed up at my doorstep that day. Their parents had only very recently gotten married but everyone was already used to the idea of them being brothers. I was the only one who saw how stark the difference between them was. One was an angel, the other the human incarnation of Lucifer.

I threw a tantrum, I wanted him gone but it wasn't what a 'well brought up young lady' would do, or so my mother said. Cole stayed the night. In the end the damage wasn't as bad as I'd expected. I only had a severe rash from the itching powder he'd sprinkled all over my sleeping bag. I only had an allergic reaction to the white roses he'd brought me and my hair only turned a mild shade of green when I used my shampoo the day after.

For him, this was tame. I think he went easy on me because of my birthday.

These are the thoughts passing through my mind when I wake up the next day. Oh and I feel like I have hundreds, of thousands of Oompa Loompas doing power yoga inside my head. My skull feels like it weighs a ton and has been mistaken for a set of drums. Someone needs to stop hitting me!

This realization is quickly followed by another one. I can't breathe, like I literally can't. My lungs feel like they're being compressed by a ton of weight. It hurts to inhale and I start to panic. Quickly springing into panic mode, I wrench my eyes open and try to wriggle out from beneath the weight, all the while battling the headache from hell.

Someone grunts near me and I freeze. My hands stop shoving something that feels like a wall of steel and I scoot closer to the edge of the bed. What on earth?

"Is that how you wake people up in this family?" Cole groans next to me, finally removing his arm from over my torso.

Cole. Arm. Torso. Bed. My Bed.

Holy Guacamole.

I let out a shriek loud enough to wake my neighbours, unless of course they're already awake and enjoying the show. Oh no, oh no. If old Mrs. Wilson sees him in my room, she'll probably have it printed in the town paper.

"You forgot I was here didn't you?" A very, shirtless Cole yawns and stretches out. My eyes are pivoted to his extremely shirtless body, fixating over his rippling muscles and defined stomach. How is it possible to look this good, first thing in the morning? Even his hair looks perfect and it hasn't been touched by a brush. The amount of money guys spend on products to achieve this bed headed look seems effortless for Cole.

"Yeah, I think that's it." Struggling to breathe, I look away. The bed creaks, telling me that he's gotten up.

"You can look now, I'm decent."

He sounds smug, a little too smug for my taste but it's deserved. He knows I'd been checking him out. Heck, every girl he meets must check him out. How do you not do that, with someone who looks as good as he does? I'm not blind; I'm a teenager with hormones.

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