Roommates with a Player

Chapter Twenty Five: Taking Off the Mask (Part 1)

Dedicated to schoellkopf because she threatened to shank me if I didn’t dedicate it to her! ^^’

 

“Ugh, I’m so hung over,” Riley moaned as I helped put her suitcase into the car.

            “Just drink some coffee,” I offered. “Sorry, I’ve never had a hangover so I can’t help much.”

            “You’re lucky,” she smiled darkly.

            It was the morning after and surprisingly, the temperature outside had boosted to a high 60 degrees. That was rare for this area of the country. The relatives were all packing up and getting ready to head to the airport, and to be honest, I was pretty sad about it.

            “When will I see you next?” Riley asked, pulling me into a hug.

            “I’m not sure,” I frowned. “I hope soon.”

            “I’ll be sure to make an unannounced visit ASAP,” she chuckled, pulling away. “Don’t forget to add me on Facebook when you get the chance.”

            “See ya, Riley,” I waved.

            She hopped into the car, followed by Aunt Olivia who was still passed out in Uncle Gerald’s arms. He hoisted her into the back and got into the driver’s seat. With one stiff wave, he hauled out of the driveway and to the airport.

            “Gerald never really liked us,” I heard Michelle say to Henry.

            “He’s always been a stubborn brother,” Henry replied.

            I giggled into my palm, thinking of how uptight Uncle Gerald was.

            “Nice jammies, Princess,” Ricky’s gruff voice came from behind me and I felt his two fingers poke into my sides. I jumped from his jab, whipping around.

            “Ricky,” I breathed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

            “So, that’s where one of your sensitive spots is. I wonder where the others are,” he grinned.

            I slapped his arm.

            “Pig,” I spat. “You look horrible.”

            It wasn’t physically possible for Ricky Stephens to look “horrible”. But, he looked extremely hung over. His eyes were bloodshot and droopy, the chocolate-ness of them looking dull. His jet-black hair was spiked up from laying on it wrong. Ricky wore a dirty gray tee and some shark covered boxers. Only one sock was on his foot.

            “Yeah, I’m a bit hung over,” he scratched the back of his neck nonchalantly. “But your five hour conversation with Riley didn’t help much.”

            I gasped. “You heard us?”

            “Well, duh. Our rooms aren’t that far apart,” he grinned. “I’ve been able to hear every rant that you’ve made about me, every phone call you’ve answered, every off-tuned song you’ve sang, and just about every noise you’ve ever uttered.”

            My cheeks blossomed deep red and I looked away, itching at my palms. Why had I been so stupid to think that whatever I did in my room wasn’t going to leak out? Of course Ricky had violated Henry’s code about not invading my privacy. Damn him!