The Cliche Gone Wrong

Chapter Thirty-four

"Your parents should be home any minute now." Nattie smiles at me, placing a plate of rice and chicken down in front of me.

I almost lose my appetite at that, but I start to shovel the food into my mouth anyway, not wanting to hurt Nattie's feelings after making her cook all this food. I'm too tired to even keep up with my side of the conversation, letting her chat about the things she was able to get done today.

I put the my spoon down on my now empty plate as I push back from the island. "I'm going to go up and ta—"

The sound of the front door opening stops me cold. Nattie looks over my shoulder, as if she can see all the way down the main hallway behind me to the foyer where the door is opening.

"That must be your parents," she says lowly, her entire body tensing as she unconsciously smooths her perfectly pressed apron.

My stomach rolls threatening to upchuck the dinner I just scarfed down. I stand up from my chair, forcing a smile onto my face as I start backing toward the other hallway that will lead me toward the back of the house.

"I think I'm going to go take a shower now." I don't wait for her to respond, slipping down the hallway as I hear the clack of expensive shoes coming toward the kitchen. Despite my lack of energy I jog down the hallway to the second staircase hidden in the back of the house, typically only used by the help.

At this moment I'm thankful that my parents' bedroom is downstairs and my dad's office is on a completely different hallway; so I won't have to run into anyone. I duck into my room, gently closing the door behind me so no one will know that I'm in here. But it's not like I really need to worry about that; it's not like anyone would ever actually come look for me in here. Why would anyone in this house actually try to talk to me here?

I pull my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket and toss it on the bed before I start to strip, throwing my dirty clothes on the floor of my recently cleaned room. Stretching my arms above my head, I amble over to the attached bathroom. I flip on the bright lights, smiling at the warm yellow that now fills the unnecessarily modern room before I open the glass enclosure to the walk-in shower. I turn the shower to as hot as it can go before I step inside, immediately moving to stand underneath the water as it shifts from freezing cold to burning hot. The water scalds my skin but I don't turn it down, forcing myself to stand there and take it.

Feel it Jude. Hold on to the pain. Store this away so you can remember it later. You just might need it.

30 seconds later, when my skin feels like it will blister if I stand there any longer, I turn down the heat to a moderate temperature, reaching for my body wash and loofah lathering it up as I scrub my body on autopilot.

Practice today was brutal. I had to run through the drills over and over again because I couldn't focus enough to get the damn thing right. I'm surprised I'm not deaf with all of the screaming Coach did today. And most of my teammates hated me by the time we were done with all of those extra sprints. But I just couldn't stop thinking about Killer. I wonder if she got her gift. I wonder if she liked the puppy. She told me that Killer would love the puppy. I'd be stupid not to believe her. I mean any girl would love a puppy!

Who doesn't love puppies?

I let the water run over my body as I try to imagine the smile that was on her face. The way her checks probably creased as her lips parted in surprise. Her sparkling white teeth contrasting perfectly with her beautiful chocolate skin. The way her dark brown eyes stare deep into my soul, even when she's giggling like a little girl.

I shake those thoughts out of my head, rinsing off my body before I turn off the water and get out, grabbing one of the towels that is already hanging on the hooks by the shower.