S-Sorry this chapter is so short. It just had to happen that way! The next one will be better... or ill it? Anyway... Become a fan, vote, and comment
Chapter 4:
Casey's POV>
The rest of the ride home wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Steve begged for my forgiveness, and I did forgive him. Unfortunately, he continued acting like a jerk the minute we stepped through the door...
"So this is your house?" I asked, looking up the dark staircase to where I assumed was our bedrooms. He looked at me from the corner of his eye.
"No." He said sarcastically. "This is a doll house for my barbies." He continued.
I decided to play along with his rudeness. "Oh. My. GOSH! If this is the barbies house, where do we live?" I asked. A maid carried in the last of my bag's and closed the door, leaving us alone in the huge house.
Steve glared at me and headed up the stairs. I eagerly followed after him, my steps in suit with his. "So where's my bedroom?" I asked in quick, raspy breaths. We had've to have gone up at least a hundred stairs already.
"Shut up and follow me." He said, muttering something inaudible under his breath. Apparently he wasn't thrilled about me staying with him.
"So... we have separate rooms, right?" I silently prayed to myself that we did.
"Yes." He said, almost sounding upset. 'Somebody's bipolar.' I thought to myself. I was used to hanging out with people like this. At my old school there were tons of jerks, but the difference between there and here is that there I had friends that were like me. They dressed in black and stuff too.
Steve came to a stop on the fourth floor and turned down a long, brightly lit hall way. "Our rooms are right next door with a bathroom in the middle." He said before opening a freshly painted white door. The room we entered was filled with pink: the walls, the bed, the FLOOR. My stomach argued with the color and I could feel my breakfast trying to jump out of my stomach. "what do you think, emo?" He asked, poking my arm.
"I am NOT emo." I said sternly as if it'd get stuck in his mind. Doubt it. I looked around the room for anything that wasn't pink. 'Ah-ha!' I thought, till I noticed it was purple. It wasn't even the good kind, the bright one that says 'Look at me! Look at me! Touch me and die!' My face was flushed and there was no heat to my face. I had've to have gone pale, because Steve's voice passed through my mind in a careful and cautious voice.
"Casey? Are you okay?" He asked. I looked around the room and saw another door. 'Bathroom' I thought. I quickly walked to the door and swung it open, barely making it to the toilet before my stomach betrayed me.
The last thing I remembered was hitting my head on the toilet and everything going black...
Steve's POV>
Casey walked into the bathroom and I heard the sound of throwing up. I hurried to the bathroom to find Casey puking her guts out. She coughed a couple of times then her head fell to hit the toilet seat. She had to have been knocked out, because she didn't move. "Casey? Case? Hello? Earth to gothy?" I said. She stayed still, completely immobile, as I put two fingers to her wrist... Yep, she was breathing. " hope it wasn't something I said... or did." I thought for a moment before a light bulb clicked in my head. "Aah, poor goth couldn't take all of the pink."
As amusing as it was, Casey's mother was going to be here in an hour and a half and Casey was passed out by a toilet. I had to do something. I picked her up and carried her through the other door to my bedroom. As I lied her down on the bed, I felt something catch on my skin and pull straight through. I cursed lightly and pulled her pink cheerleader voodoo doll out of my arm.
I pulled the cover's back and threw them on top of her. Casey lie still and lifeless as I changed my clothes into something suitable for her parents. A black tuxedo. Now for Casey. I went back to her room and rummaged through her bags. EVERYTHING was black. No joke. Every last thing was black. I found one long, silky black dress and went back to my room. "Casey?" I asked. She didn't respond and I slowly and carefully slipped off her black skinny jeans. I threw it into a pile of dirty clothes on my floor. The shirt was not as easy to get off. She had on a thin, skin tight black tee shirt that announced the name of some weird band I've never heard of: Play dead, and I kept having to fling her arms above her head to pull it off. When the tee finally slid off of her limp body, I found that she is very annoying even when she's half dead. She had a tank top on under her shirt. I angrily started pulling and tugging on the tank top and managed to pull it off quickly and swiftly in one fast movement. "Now for the dress." I said aloud working with the dress.
When Casey was finally dressed, I went down to the kitchen and fixed some drinks. 'Casey was so calm and still when she was half unconscious.' I thought while putting the drinks on the table. The door bell rang. "Time to meet my soon to be in laws."
