**FAIR WARNING: YOU WILL HAVE TO BE PATIENT WITH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, BUT IT IS THERE, AND WORTH THE READ. IF YOU ARE OVERLY SENSITIVE, DO NOT READ THIS BOOK*
Logan Pierce and Noah Locke are sworn enemies. Both at the top of their class, holding t...
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WAKING up on Saturday after the party was a bitter disappointment. My head was throbbing in pain and the sun shining through my window certainly didn't help the blaring headache. I groaned, looking over to my bedside table where I spotted a note folded on top accompanied by a bottle of water and some Advil. I reached over to grab the note, reading it:
Thank you for coming last night. I will make it up to you with a lovely strawberry cheesecake milkshake today! Text me when you're feeling better! -Jeremy
Although I hadn't wanted to go to the party, I could admit that Jeremy was a saint sometimes. It wasn't even like I could blame him for my raging hangover. I was the one who decided drinking 4 beers was a good idea. I could barely even remember what happened last night. (I know, I was a major lightweight. I didn't take my alcohol well.)
I sat up, taking the pills and washing it down with almost the entirety of the water bottle. I then realized just how gross I felt, and I needed to desperately take a shower.
Once my shower was finished, I threw my hair up into a bun and changed into some sweatpants and an old volleyball t-shirt. Then I made my way downstairs where the smell of bacon instantly hit me. Thank Jesus.
I turned the corner and entered the kitchen, where my dad was cooking bacon and my mom was pouring a cup of coffee while simultaneously scrambling eggs. "Honey!" My mom screeched. "Eggs and bacon?"
"Oh, absolutely," I said, sitting down at the table and pulling out my phone to check Snapchat while I waited.
"Did you have fun with your friends last night?"
"Uh, yeah. For sure," I answered, not wanting to say too much, but I could tell they knew that I had gone to a party last night. Probably because I had arrived home at 2 in the morning, stumbling through the house as Jeremy tried to help me up the stairs. I faintly recalled tripping over my own feet and slamming my head against the wall. I usually tried to be more careful about coming home late for my own sake; My parents were never thrilled about staying out and hanging with friends.
My dad came over and placed a plate with bacon and eggs in front of me, then sat down across from me. "This will be good brain food for you," he told me. "We know you must have had fun last night, but it is time to snap back into the real world. Your mother and I wouldn't want you to get too distracted from your schoolwork."
I mentally groaned. I loved my parents, trust me. I mean, I even loved them a little extra right now as they had made me breakfast. But they were very strict when it came to my grades and staying focused. It put an immense amount of pressure on me to do well. Or, to do perfect, rather.
"Stanford is still the goal, Honey!" My mom chimed in.
"Yes, I know," I assured them. "I'm not distracted. I just like to hangout with my friends sometimes and take a little break."
