[twenty-one]

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[twenty-one]

[bridgit]

"Yeah, mom, I made it okay," I said for the thousandth time into my headphone's speaker while unpacking my suitcase.

"Okay, hon, just to tell you, your dad reopened the Hanna Lloyd case."

I blew out air from my mouth hard, making the hair in my face fly up, but only to come back down. "Okay," I replied. "Are they anywhere near finding Hanna?"

"No, but he's going to talk to her parents today."

I thought for a moment, but finally decided to tell her what I knew. "She's in rehab."

There was a pause on the other end. "Rehab?"

"Yeah. I got her to go to rehab when I heard about the drugs."

"So you KNEW?"

"Yeah, mom, but I've got to go."

"Bridgit-"

I hung up before I could get yelled at for keeping things from her. I sighed and plopped back on my couch. This weekend was crazy. When I got home, Harry was packing up his stuff and refused to even look at me. He and Gemma left on Saturday morning and I 100% skipped the Karmin meeting. I think I should take a break from tours. When Good Luck Charlie is done (since this is the last season), I'll just lay back and focus on my music.

So, I turned on the TV to CSI New York and my mind's gears began to turn and try to figure out the perp before the detectives.

But, my relax time was cut short when the doorbell rang.

"It's open!" I exclaimed, but I realized how bad of an idea that was when the girl on TV was murdered for doing the same thing.

But, no fear, it was Nick and Nick would only kill a fly. Or an ant. Or a spider.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "I thought you went back to your brothers."

He walked behind my couch and placed his head on it, staring at me. "I did, but I just missed my favorite Bridgit. But, then again, there's Bridgit Holmes, Bridgit Well..."

I flicked him in the nose.

"I'm joking!" He looked at what I was watching. "CSI, eh?"

"Yup. In the next episode you get shot."

"Yeah, that sort of hurt, pretending to die."

"I had to refrain myself from laughing."

It was his turn to flick me on the nose. "You know I look hot dead."

"Dream on, Jonas."

He smiled and jumped over the sofa, proceeding to sit next to me. "So, how was your Thanksgiving?"

I groaned. "Full of endless drama."

Nick opened his mouth to question my response, but he was cut off by a knocking on my door.

"It's open!" I exclaimed again.

"Bridgit!" Nick feigned a gasp and pointed at the . "Do you want to end up dead like that hot blonde chick?" His eyes gleamed. "I mean, it's just that one thing you two don't have in common."

hurricane // bridgit mendlerWhere stories live. Discover now