Broken

• Chapter 81 •

The moment I step into my house is the moment I wish I was blind.

"GUYS! WHAT THE FUCK?" I turn in horror, having seen something I definitely should never see.

Mom and dad quickly cover themselves with a blanket on the couch.

"Shit," mom groans.

"Well, fuck, Minty. You're not supposed to be home for another two hours!" dad screams.

"I was tired!"

Dear God please have mercy and take me now. I don't want to be here anymore, I'm done. Please.

"... Well, um, maybe like—go sleep, then?" mom suggests.

"Right. Are you guys decent?" I'm going to kill myself.

"Yeah," I turn. "Actually—"

"MY EYES! THEY'RE BURNING! YOU SAID YOU WERE FUCKING DECENT!" I cover my eyes, completely traumatized by the sight of my dad's ass.

This is just cruel. God is having a laugh at my life.

"I SAID ACTUALLY!" he sounds just as embarrassed as I feel, "Okay. I'm good now."

Oh my fucking God, this is more awkward than the dinner with Ashton and my parents. I sprint to my room and hear them laugh hysterically when I shut my bedroom door. Gross. Gross gross gross.

I hop into the shower and brush my teeth five times, absolutely exhausted by the time I flop onto my bed. I sigh as my weight sinks into the mattress. My back is so sore that I can't help but let out a soft moan.

... Didn't think my bed was the thing that would make me moan tonight.

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I wake up with a pounding headache and wince at the sunlight streaming in from my window. Hm, guess I did drink more than I thought. I check my phone and decide that I don't want to deal with a hangover right now, so I go back to bed.

"Wake up, lunch is ready!" mom jolts me out of my sleep.

I feel groggy and disgusting, I groan at her to go away.

"WAKE UP! Do not make me take my broken leg all the way to your bed and dump a bucket of water on you," she warns.

"Mfffem," I mumble. Completely unable to move a singular muscle in my body.

"Wake up."

"Go awaaaaaaaaay."

I finally hear silence and go back to sleep.

"AHHHHHHH!"

I'm jolted off my bed by icy water drenching my clothes. My eyes snap up violently as I examine the damage, my mattress is soaked. Mom is holding a bucket in her hand, a smug smile is planted on her face.

"What was that for?" I can feel anger seeping through my bones.

"I warned you," she shrugs.

I huff in frustration and bury my face into my pillow, only to find that it too, is damp.

"AGHHH!" I throw the pillow across the room in irritation, I'm not in the mood for this.

Mom snickers and makes her way out of my room, "When you're done throwing your tantrum, lunch is ready."

She turns back to me before she leaves and gives me a sweet smile. "Don't forget to put your mattress out to dry," she blows me a kiss and leaves, laughing to herself.