[Sequel to The Merciless Black List Of Highland High]
Secrets and lies.
The very flesh and bone of the infamous Shameless Foursome guys.
Collin Adamms, the supposed creator of The Shameless Virginity Games, knows what it's like to make mistakes t...
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I wake up feeling disoriented.
It takes me a moment to take everything in. The beige couch underneath me. The baby blue blanket draped over my body. The dusk surrounding the room, the only source of light being the small blue night lamp plugged into the electric socket underneath the huge plasma TV mounted on the wall right opposite to me.
The scenery is familiar, well, as familiar as it can be after spending last night here and apparently falling asleep here, too. Looking up at the ceiling, I swallow hard. My throat feels parched and I rack my mind for memories of last night.
Getting high with Timothy. Playing Red Dead Redemption 2, not one game but rather several games, and even winning a couple times because surprisingly, unlike Call of Duty, I seem to be quite good at Red Dead Redemption. I remember eating the sandwiches Carla brought us earlier and then sharing additional bag of chips and Flaming Hot Doritos that Tim went to grab upstairs once the munchies hit us full force.
We finished the lit project about Virginia Woolf, despite my previous apprehension. And it didn't even take us more than an hour. Then we went back to one last Red Dead rematch and laughed and talked and . . . it was actually really nice. Not the same way a conversation with Collin feels but still nice. It felt like a breath of fresh air seeping into my lungs after a while of being deprived of oxygen, not having to think about anything worrisome, just simply being a teenager.
Despite how crazy the idea seemed at the beginning when Tim first brought it up, I don't regret it. It helped me relax and it helped me clear my head for a little while, just like he said it would. Granted, I didn't plan on sleeping over but I probably must have dozed off sometime around one, maybe two in the morning. He could have woken me up but I'm not particularly angry at him for not doing that. He put a blanket over me instead by the looks of it, placed a glass of water on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, and for that alone, the irritation is nowhere to be found.
It takes me a while to locate my phone. I remember having it on me before I dozed off but I must have taken it out apparently, because I find it wedged between one of the couch cushions and the pillow I slept on which must have been placed there by Timothy the same way the blanket has. I'm not sure what I expect to find once I flick the screen to asses what time it is, but I'm slightly taken aback by two things. Mostly, the time, because it's just after eleven, which means I really took the opportunity and slept in. It's nothing unusual, not even the fact that I slept for around ten hours but I don't know how I feel about sleeping this late at someone else's house, without even planning to.
The second thing that surprises me a little however, is the one missed call I have from Bishop. It's marked at midnight but I must have missed it. Obviously. A slight pang of guilt shoots through me because I could have at least let him know I'm okay when he clearly cares enough to check in on me, even after the fall-out we had recently, but then again, it's not like I planned on sleeping here. It just . . . happened.
