Chapter 4: Party Aftermath

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-'ˏ Charlotte Anderson's Pov ˎ'-

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Sunday , 1:28 a.m
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TW: Abusive Home Situations, Drunk Driving
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"You and Hargrove seem close all of a sudden." Carol commented as she drove me home.

I scoffed. "We like to smoke, nothing more nothing less."

"Do u want it to be something more?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Carol I'm too hammered for this conversation." I say with a laugh as I drop my face into my hands.

"He's cute." She continues on.

"He's hot." I finally give in. "But apparently he's the Hawkins whore."

"I can change him!" She says in a mocking sing song voice, causing us to break out into laughter.

"What do you guys even talk about?"

"A whole lot of nothing, he tells me that I talk too much."

"Sounds like Hargrove."

I let it fall silent as I bite my nails and let my thoughts roam. "He said we aren't friends." I tell her.

"Because he wants to be boyfriend and girlfriend!" She says loudly before making kissing noises.

"Oh stop!" I laugh before pushing her shoulder. "He's not interested, and I don't like him." I mention, feeling like a little girl who's crushing on some hot boy a couple years older than her.

She waves her hand dismissively as she pulls into my driveway. "He sleeps with anyone, clearly he's easy. We can work with that." She tells me seriously.

I crack a grin at her comment, "I don't like him."

"And I don't like Tommy."

"Bye Carol, see you Monday. Last week of school." I chide as I step out of her car.

"Bye Char. Don't have any wet dreams about Hargrove!"

I stick my tongue out at her as she backs up and drives off. Sighing to myself I readjust my clothes and make my way to the front door. My heart races as I fish out my key and unlock it as quietly as possible. Before I could even turn around from locking the door back up my mother calls out my name. I wordlessly turn around to see her sitting on the couch, a glass of wine still in her hand.

My shoulders slumped as I realized she's been drinking for hours already.

"Where were you?"

"I was with Carol." I tell her honestly.

"WHERE were you?" She repeats.

"At Carol's." I lie.

"I called Carol's mom hours ago when I realized you weren't home. Carol wasn't at home either. So where were you?" She slurs.

Marlboro Love [Billy Hargrove]Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt