xxviii. night terrors

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I HATE YOU
::  xxviii. | night terrors




Ashely sat in the car with July, he pulled up to an enclosed area. He parked the car and turned it off, before reaching in the backseat for a plastic bag. His hand soon reached in, pulling out two bottles.

"I don't drink." Ashely mentioned after seeing the bottles in his hand. He just tilted his head and gave her a look with his brows furrowed. "Ok — fine." She caved, "I just wanted to seem responsible."

He handed her one of the bottles, "You'll be fine."

She hesitantly took the bottle, "You do know how old I am, right? I'm 19."

"Oh — I'm 21."

She nodded understandingly, "Therefore, I can't drink and you will get in trouble for handing me this."

"Last time I checked . . " He sunk into his seat, "There's no one else around. So what do you say?"

She paused for a brief moment, looking around as well, "Fine."

So Ashely opened the bottle and July opened the bottle he held. The two clanked bottles together before taking a big gulp of the alcohol. It stung the back of their throats but in a more satisfactory kind of way.

From there, the two carried on with conversation. Getting to know each other better, life, family, future, etc. To Ashely, July was becoming a really good friend but that's not the way he saw it at all. He saw it as a possible opportunity, an open door — but the door wasn't open at all.

As they continued to laugh and talk while drinking, that's when Ashely's phone was going off in her pocket. She pulled it out and the caller ID read Brooke. She pressed the green button and held the phone up to her ear.

√ | i hate you, 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚²                       Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora