Chapter Twenty Nine-The Sick Truth.

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Chapter Twenty Nine-The Sick Truth.

Ashlynn’s P.O.V.

You’d think that, when I awoke the next morning, the first thing to go through my mind would be about the craziness that had happened the night before. You were wrong. The first thing that went through my mind, was that I needed to get to the bathroom; fast.

I stumbled out of bed, rushing to the ensuite--did I mention that basically every room in this house had one?--where I was violently sick...again. As much as I wouldn’t admit it to myself, couldn’t even think that it was true, I knew I couldn’t avoid the truth for much longer. But still, I would keep at it; going on in my own little way, avoiding anything but the truth.

Face it, Ashlynn,I thought glumly, you’re screwed.

My conscience wasn’t much wrong, either.

Anyway, once I was done emptying everything I’d eaten the day before--which wasn’t a lot, surprisingly--I decided to freshen up a bit. I took a long hot shower, letting the warm water undo all the knots in my ever tense muscles. Maybe I should stop getting stressed. Pfft, yeah. Like that was going to happen anytime soon.

Once my teeth had been brushed, hair sorted, clothes on and makeup done, I was ready to go. I only had to pray that I had been quiet enough when I was sick; I seriously didn’t need the twenty questions, from Dylan or Cory.

“Morning!” I chirruped, in a falsely cheerful voice that I was sure we all knew was anything but my own. Dylan looked up from the breakfast table, where he was sat with a piece of toast, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince in hand.

“Morning honey. How do you feel?” he asked, beetle black eyes scrutinizing my face.

“Feel? Fine. Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, suddenly feeling rather paranoid.

“I--I was just asking how you were. It was a big day yesterday, is all.”

“Oh...right. I’m fine.”

I took a seat next to him, helping myself to some ready buttered toast. He knew me too well. “Enjoying your book?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.

He nodded slowly. “Of course. It is Harry Potter, after all.” A small smile appeared upon his face, one that soon was passed onto me. He really was infectious.

“My favourite one of them all,” I commented. “Not the film though; they made such a massacre of that.”

“I know right? It killed me! “

We spoke like that for a while, and everything was going great. So...natural. As if none of what had been going on had happened anymore. Then, the arrival of Cory changed it all.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily, staggering down in boxers and a baggy shirt, hair even more tussled than usual thanks to sleep. “How long have you two nerds been up?”

I shook my head; how could he act so natural? It was like last night had never happened. That meaner, angry side of Cory that had come out...it scared me. Really, it did. No, he wasn’t the gentle giant that Dylan was, but he certainly wasn’t like that... I didn’t think I’d ever see him in the same way again.

“Ashlynn, can I have a word? In private?”

I gulped; I had to admit it, I was scared. Scared to be alone with him. Call me a wimp, but after last night...

Yet, we had a connection. As cliché and stupid as it sounded, we really did. So that was how I came to be stood up, walking towards Cory with a nervous smile on my face, mouthing ‘it’s fine’ to Dylan on the way out. He took us into his bedroom, and gestured for me to take a seat. I perched on the end of his bed, trying not to be transfixed by the room.

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