28 | Hot and Cold

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Hot and Cold

I think I've just about emptied out everything I've ever eaten in my whole life.

After flushing the evidence and chugging about half of a bottle of mouthwash from the cabinet, I exit the bathroom.

I still feel unsteady, but that could be from a combination of my high heels and puking.

Yeah, right. It's because of all the bullshit from tonight.

Shaking the thought away, I stand in the middle of Jalen's room, bringing my hands to my hips as I think of a plan.

My only way home is taking an Uber or calling Noah. I've always been scared of being alone in Ubers, especially after midnight. And calling Noah isn't an option. He was here with Cortney.

And Jalen slept with her.

Okay, maybe I should call Noah.

I dial his number, tapping my foot impatiently as it rings twice before going to voicemail.

It's supposed to ring longer than that.

This motherfucker ignored my call.

What a prick.

I refuse to call again. Fuck him.

I look around the room, trying to think of another solution.

The rustled sheets on Jalen's bed catch my eye and bring back that nauseous feeling. I've spent too many times tangled in them to have to be worried about what the fuck else he's doing.

My fists clench at the thought of being betrayed like that, especially while I'm in the same place as him.

I don't care if he's denying it. He hasn't given me an actual answer as to where he supposedly was, so to me, he's just lying.

I'm rushing toward his bed before I can think it through, reaching for his blanket and sheets, tugging them off, letting the dozens of pillows previously scattered across his bed fly across the room.

"Uh, bad time?"

I'm interrupted by a voice at the door, and I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

Deciding it's better to face him, rather than continue trashing his room, I drop the last pillow and do so.

He hasn't moved, still standing in the doorframe, one hand on the doorknob and the other against the wall. Brows turned downward, frown on his face as he takes in the mess.

"I can come back if you'd like to finish... whatever it is you're doing," he offers hesitantly.

"I'm done," I announce, glancing around at the sheets and pillows thrown across the floor.

Feeling slightly embarrassed at the mess, I lean down to start cleaning, before realizing this entire mess is his fault. Not mine.

Standing upright once more, I meet his gaze, raising a brow, wondering what his next move is.

Jalen takes a step into the room, hands shoved into his pockets. His movements are slow and calculated as he crosses the room, taking extra care to keep distance between us.

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