Chapter Nine - Caution: Fragile - Part One

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I was rudely awakened by my phone's alarm going off at eight the following morning. Yawning and stretching and mumbling obscenities under my breath I trotted out into my en suite. Without as much as glancing at myself I stripped down to my birthday suit and quickly got into the shower. I jumped and yelped when the cold water first hit me, but thankfully it warmed up fast and seconds later I was engulfed in a wonderful steam of hot vaporizing water.

The fact that my mother had called in the reinforcement this early in the morning when I'd usually still be asleep was just another reason for my gloominess. I hadn't exactly gotten the best of sleep last night, mainly because I'd been tossing and turning, much to Zeus' annoyance, but I couldn't help but keep thinking about Jace and Caleb and how everything was changing in my life.

"Chloe, you better be awake in there!" My mother shouted from outside my room, but since I knew she could hear the shower was on, I didn't bother to muster up the strength to shout back. It wasn't like I'd fall asleep right here in the shower stall. The water was just so nice and warm and hot and warm and... My eyes had drooped and I snapped my head upright.

"Okay! I think I need to get out before I slip and crack my skull open," I said to myself, making it loud and clear. I turned off the water and wrapped myself in the fluffy towel I had left when I'd been packing last night.

I quickly dried myself off and grabbed the pair of sweatpants and tank top I had laid out the night before. I was going for ultimate comfort today, having to run around moving boxes and such. If I had to be sweaty I would do so in my sweatpants.

"Honey, Patrick and Jace are here!"

Crap.

I quickly fixed my red hair into a ponytail and without a second look in the mirror I exited my room for one of the last times.

I took my time going downstairs, not wanting it to look like I was in any way eager to see Jace, because I wasn't. But I also knew that was a complete lie.

I found Jace leaning against the wall in the hallway; hands tugged away in his jeans pockets and with a face that looked like he was about to drop dead on the floor. I paused a few feet away, not wanting to get too close – you never quite knew what he might be up to.

"Hi, Jace," I greeted, watching how he struggled to produce a smile.

"Hey, Martin," he replied, his voice sounding heavy and strained. I frowned and looked at him properly this time; his eyes were bloodshot and his skin a little paler than usual, his hair looked more messy messy rather than stylish messy.

"Rough night?" I asked, knowing immediately that he was suffering from a hangover. And a brutal one by the looks of it.

"Yeah uhm, I got in a little late, but dad told me I had to come and help."

I couldn't say I felt bad for him, because I didn't. I wasn't exactly one of those party girls like some of the other girls from school, in fact, I couldn't think of a time when I had ever had a hangover. Wow, I must be really boring.

"I'll try and keep my voice down!" I said, purposely raising my voice louder than necessary, but it was worth it as Jace cringed and covered his ears with his hands.

"God woman, stop that shrieking," he growled.

"I do not shriek," I retorted with a huff and moved into the kitchen.

Mom and Patrick were in there, laughing as they sealed a box shut.

"Oh hey honey, you might as well start moving the boxes in your room outside and into the truck." Really? She could have told me that before I came downstairs.

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