Chapter 4: Racing Hearts

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3rd person POV
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The sound of silence filled the room, however the sound of ringing filled Samara's ears.

Samara and Johnnie both sat criss crossed facing each other ontop of the bed, staring to each others eyes, the effects of the marijuana plant filled to the brim in both of their systems.

Samara looked behind Johnnie to the nightstand, she smiled, feeling as if everything was in stop motion, and crawled over past Johnnie, just like she did a few hours ago, reaching over him in her tight low cut top and baggy pajamas pants,

pajama pants that were his.

Which may sound weird to the naked eye, but after being friends with someone since the first grade, you tend to share clothes or lend eachother clothing you don't necessarily care for or wear.

The black-haired girl pulled open the cabinet of the nightstand, pulling out the glass bottle, Vodka.

What could go wrong?

She shoved the bottle to Johnnie, him smirking a little and taking the bottle from her hand, watching her as she grabbed two shot glasses, pulling them out of the same drawer and shutting it.

The girl went to sit criss cross infront of him like how they were before, when she saw he laid his legs down flat, so she couldn't sit directly infront of him..

unless...

She swung her left leg over both of his, sitting ontop of his lower thighs, almost knees, his eyebrows raised but quickly settled back to normal, the boy bit the inside of his bottom lip unconsciously, Samara noticed but didn't think much of it.

She held the shot glasses out, signaling for him to pour. He unscrewed the cap of the vodka bottle and swuinted his eyes, slowly leaning the bottle over, trying to be super careful with not spilling or splashing, however he was too focused on pouring slowly to realize his aim was off— pouring the vodka directly onto Samara's pants.

The girl scoffed, "Johnnie!" she exclaimed, her ears rung louder, her own voice echoed in her own head.

Not only did he pour directly onto her pants, but he poured alot, as he didn't even process he was pouring it onto her until he soaked her left thigh with the alcoholic beverage.

Johnnie placed the bottle down and started laughing, covering his face, "This isn't funny you monster!" Samara shouted, "I love these pants" she said sadly with a pout, he sat there still laughing, covering his face. Samara normally was a giggley high, but right now she was really frustrated over the vodka spill and didn't find it funny at all, she was much rather annoyed with the boy.

She climbed off him, yes climbed, as her high body felt like quick sand was weighing— no, pulling— her down.

She let out a dramatic groan, walking over to his closet, he layed there still silently laughing to himself, trying to hold it in.

She pulled off the half soaked pants, feeling the vodka had already seaped into her skin, she cringed, wiping her damp bare thigh with the dry part of the same pants. She sighed and opened his closet in search of new pajama bottoms.

She rummaged through his clothes, groaning loudly growing more frustrated.

"Why do you only have fucking skinny jeans!"

Johnnie looked up and noticed the girl half dressed, standing in only a tanktop and underwear— he had seen her in her underwear countless of times, he thought he'd get over it after the first couple times, but here he was face growing red and a loss of breath from it.

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