The Curse of Pepsi Lane [English version of The Witch and the Playboy]

Chapter 32- Overthinking

PEPSI

🎶Now from the top, make it drop
That's some wet-ass pussy
Now get a bucket and a mop
That's some wet-ass pussy
I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP
That's some wet-ass—🎶

An unfamiliar, upbeat ringtone with indecent lyrics instantly drags me out of my peaceful sleep.

Grams probably changed it again for the nth time already. 

But how does she keep on figuring out my cellphone's pattern? And where did she get these songs? That woman, seriously. 

I try to move, but I feel like my body is super glued to my bed. This is what I get from sleeping at 5 in the freaking morning, thanks to Jake Snyder for not leaving my mind, and that unexpected goodbye kiss he gave me last night.

🎶Now from the top, make it drop
That's some wet-ass pussy
Now get a bucket and a mop—🎶

Could this damn phone shut up? I need more fucking sleep! God!

Fighting the impulse to get a hammer and smash my phone into pieces, I blindly reach for it on the bedside table to cancel it and try to get back to sleep.

But I can't anymore.

I roll over to my side, and to the other side, and to my back, but Jake's stupid smirk is invading my mind again.

Squashing the urge to scream, I groan my frustration out against my pillow instead. Euphoria and apprehension is actually a dangerous combination, and I'm definitely not liking it. 

I swear, I couldn't exactly define what we are right now.

We're definitely not friends, but we're not lovers either...

Right?

If I could only take back my confessions...

But given his cockiness, he has already engraved it in his head.

I scoff at myself. I know that I have said this a thousand times already, but I really hate him.

Or... you just hate the way he makes you feel?

Unfortunately, yes.

I thought about the pros and cons of entertaining him, of fully giving into him.

Entering a relationship with someone like him—someone who you can define as beautiful trouble— doesn't seem like it would end with a happy ending. His army of crazy fangirls would definitely kill me, and of course, his beast of an ex, and what if his friends and family won't like me?

I mean, I'm known as the scary weirdo at school so...

I heave a deep sigh and repeatedly hit my face with the pillow. This constant overthinking has been squeezing my brain since last night!

🎶Now from the top, make it drop
That's some wet-ass pussy—🎶

My hand immediately twitches towards my phone when I realize that it might be him.

I give myself a second to clear my throat and compose myself before swiping it to answer.

"What," I greet in a groggy voice.

He chuckles in a destructive, husky voice before saying, 

"Hello, princess. How was your sleep?"

"It's fine. What do you want?" I'm trying my best to sound like a snob, but everything about me is shaking.

"You."

Jesus, this guy!

I close my eyes and take a long, deep breath before answering him, "Could you please stop that?"