The Good Girl's Bad Side

Chapter 18: I'll let you drive my mustang

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates, school started and I've been too busy to update.

Excuse any grammar or spelling mistake. You may correct me, but respectfully.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 18: I'll let you drive my mustang

Tristan drives me home in silence and drops me off at my driveway before speeding down the street.

I open the door and welcome the warm air floating in the living room. I walk quietly up the stairs, making sure that I don't wake my parents up, but because today isn't my lucky day, the stairs creech with every step I take.

I finally reach my room without waking anyone up and I fling the door open and close it again after I enter. Without wasting a second more, I strip off the clothes clinging to my body and don on my soft pyjamas, and immediately go to bed.

Today was a really tiring day and it drained all the energy that my body contained. At least I have sleep to help me recharge.

"Are you jealous?"

Tristan's words resonate in my mind and I can't help but wonder if I was really jealous. I have no time to think about it as darkness already consumes me and I go to dream land.

............

"Wake up. Wake up." I hear someone poke my cheek.

Here's the thing. You do not  just disturb someone's sleep, especially someone who values sleep like me. Respect my sleep. Do not wake me up early on a Saturday morning. Never.

"WAKE UP!!" I fall out of bed at that voice. The idiot that had disturbed my slumber, breaks into fits of laughter.

"What the hell?!" I shout and get up from my uncomfortable position on the hard floor.

"You should've seen your face," his voice sounds pleasing to the ear, his smile surely brightens up my mood as I do not see it often.

"Shut up you dimwit!" I smack the back of his head with my hand. I feel his soft locks beneath my fingers and I try by all means not to run my hand through--

What is happening to me?

"Ouch," he winces.

"Tristan, what are you-- why is the sun not up?" I ask him as I stare at the bright stars that still blanket the night sky. My window's open and a cool breeze invites itself through the small opening.

Wait, my window's open?

"Did you get in through my window?" I arch an eyebrow and wait for him to answer.

"Your window was open," he states.

"So...?"

"I climbed in."

"I think even the person with the lowest IQ level on the planet can figure out that you climbed into my bedroom through the window," I retort and fold my arms over my chest as I wait for him to elaborate the cause of his sudden visit or in other terms, break in.

"Can I sleep over for the night?" He nervously scratches the back of his neck. Why do most guys do that?

"May I ask why?"

"Please don't, but I really need the favour," desperation drips out of his mouth and I can't help but feel sorry for him.

I know the feeling of true desperation and I don't want anyone else to go through it.