Sugar

42

chapter forty two
florence thompson
song: reason to hate you - rhys lewis

When I saw Vincent on the television, I knew I needed to get over him. I knew right at that moment that I was allowing myself to care far too much about him, and it was dangerous for me and me only. I was the only one to end up burned in the end.

I promised myself I would move on, let go of the feelings I had for him. Then Aria came in, an Aria-style, get-over-someone plan in full swing. Don't get me wrong, I knew I needed to get over him but I didn't imagine it to be in the form of a blind date.

"Florence, why don't you just go?" Aria groaned as she sat behind me in my bed where I was currently wrapped up, cocoon-style, in my comforter, looking a hot mess.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ari? I'm perfectly fine in my bed, just leave me," I grumbled, trying to sink further down into my blankets as I laid on my side, facing the window where my curtains were fully closed, effectively blocking out the afternoon sunlight.

Aria was currently trying to convince me to go on a blind date after Ben told her all about his heroic act of saving me. How much I wanted to smack that boy seemed to skyrocket with each passing day lately.

She had barged herself into my apartment to find me in the exact place that I am now, in my self-pity cocoon. She's been trying to convince me for the past thirty minutes to go, but each time she was met with the same, unimpressed answer.

"Alright, that's it," Aria snapped, apparently deciding that she'd had enough.

She shoved herself up and off of my bed, stomping over to the window and yanking my curtains open, blinding me with the bright sunlight. I groaned, yanking my blanket up and over my head, surrounding myself in the darkness again.

The darkness was the only thing keeping me sane lately.

"You're not throwing a pity party today. Not on my watch," Aria ranted as I heard her walk around my room before the sound of my closet being opened met my ears. I made no effort to watch what she was doing. "You're going on this date whether you like it or not, and you're going to forget all about Vincent De Douchebag if it's the last thing I do."

If I wasn't feeling as moody as a PMSing teenager, I would've laughed at the nickname she'd sprouted off, but laughing seemed like a chore at the moment.

"Listen, Levi is a sweetheart. He's hilarious and not to mention he has killer blue eyes," she rattled off, continuing to drone on about this date that was most definitely not going to happen.

I bet his eyes aren't as killer as my favorite eyes, my traitor of a subconscious commented.

Before I could dwell in the feeling of anguish that rolled over me, my comforter was ripped off of me and left me exposed to the sunlight beating down through my window. I groaned loudly, throwing my arm over my eyes.

"Get your ass up before I call Rico and have him drag you out of bed by your ear," she threatened, and I lifted my arm slightly and cracked one eye open to find her standing above me, arms crossed over her chest.

"I hate you," I grumbled as I begrudgingly shoved myself up into a sitting position, my hair that was once in a ponytail was now just a mess, the elastic now somewhere near the bottom of my hair, effectively making my hair quite wonky.

I was in a worn out black Ramones shirt that used to belong to my father and a pair of sweatpants. I was certain that I looked absolutely ridiculous at the moment.

"I have my work cut out for me," she whistled lowly, hands on her hips as she looked over me slowly and took in my homeless appearance.

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."