Hold On

Chapter 29

 I woke up to complete darkness, except for a light shining through Ethan's bedroom door from the living room. I looked beside me to see an empty space, meaning Ethan was in the living room and not in the bed.  I glanced over to his alarm clock. It read one ten (1:10) in the morning. I went to get out of bed, when I realized I wasn't wearing anything. I grabbed the red lace underwear E had gotten me and grabbed a white t-shirt from his dresser before walking out to check on him. But before I went to fully open the door to walk out, I heard Ethan talking on the phone. 

    "No mom, she may not be perfect...But that doesn't matter, she's worth it to me." He said, talking about me, I'd assume. I didn't even know that his mother knew, but I decided not to bother him. He probably didn't talk to his mom that often, and I didn't want to ruin it.

   "I've literally never felt this way about anyone. You remember how I used to be in High School and everything with Meredith. If I wasn't serious about this girl, do you really think I'd be talking about her like this?" He continued. What did he mean by the way he used to be in high school? And who's Meredith? He's never said anything about any of that to me. 

    "Maybe I just don't deserve her, but she loves me and that's all I care about mom." He seemed a little frustrated, but I couldn't help but have a smile creep up my lips.

   "Will you at least meet her before you judge the situation?" He pleaded her, and I wished ever so badly that I could hear what she was saying. 

   "I know it seems wrong because I'm her teacher, but she's eighteen, and it wasn't my intention to fall in love at all while I was here, but I did, and I wish you'd understand that." He wined. 

   At that point, it felt entirely wrong for eavesdropping on his conversation. So I tip-toed back to his bed and lied down. I could faintly hear him talking, but not enough to hear any more of what he was saying. Was his mom against the whole idea of us? I felt a little nauseous thinking about it. I wanted his mom to like me when I was given the chance to meet her, not hate me because I was too young, and the situation seems immature. I wanted to make a good impression, and whenever the time came that I would meet his family, I wanted it to be under good terms. My mind was working overtime in the thinking process. I hated when this happened. How was I going to sleep when it feels this bad?

     Suddenly, I didn't hear Ethan talking anymore, and I noticed the light in the living room shut off. He was on his way back into bed. I heard his door creek open, and then latch shut as he quietly made his way into the room. I heard him let out a tiny laugh as he crawled into bed. I assumed it was because I stole one of his shirts once again. My stomach did flips once he wrapped an arm around my waist and moved in closer to me, making himself comfortable. I smiled at the secure feeling I gor from it, and readjusted myself to get comfortable the same way he did. I set my arm on top of his and gently but quickly brushed his forearm with my fingertips.

   "I love You, Baby," He whispered into my ear.

  My eyes were now closed, but I still grinned, "I Love You too." I said in a tired tone on voice, before yawning and falling back asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The next morning, Ethan and I rushed around like we had to do before, only because I didn't drive to his apartment, but I rode along with him last night. I got dressed in a white v-neck and a light weight denim over the shirt that folded the arms up into quarter sleeves. I tucked in the white t-shirt in the front but let it hang looked in the back. I wore a black leather coated skinny jeans, and black suede high heel ankle boots to finish it off. I usually let E have the bathroom, and I stayed in his room and used a mirror he had above his dresser. I plugged in my straightener and waited for it to heat up as I did my makeup. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, letting our steam from Ethan's shower. I glanced over when he walked out. He was wearing only a towel that wrapped around his bottom half. I smirked and whistled at him in a joking manner. He looked over at me pretending to give me a shy smile. I giggled as he came over to me and kissed my cheek. HIs wet hair dripping down my chest. I let out a small screech as I wiped it away. He started laughing as he walked over the clothes he had set out on his bed. I caught myself staring at him in the mirror. Then, in one swift move, he removed his towel. I bit my lip and tried focusing back on straightening my hair. He knew exactly what he was doing. I knew that whistling at him was probably a really bad idea in my case.