Dumped!

Dumped (19)

“Yeah. I don’t live very far though. You could be back at the party in no time”, he said, as we got in.

“Oh. You’re not going?” I tried not to sound disappointed.

He shrugged. “That’s not really my scene.”

Where, then, was his scene?

I peeled out of the driveway, and following Jeremy’s directions, headed off to his place. We got there in less than twenty minutes. Kind of convenient; living near a jail.

Jeremy Harrington’s house was amazing! It was all entirely glass – two floors of glass walls – with a car turntable in the driveway, and a circular pool on the side, with a Jacuzzi attached. It was definitely worth bailing him out of jail for. The best thing was the way you could see the reflection of everything outside, but not a single glance at the inside. It most definitely suited him, and his secretive ways.

I didn’t realize I’d been staring.

“You want to come in?” He asked, standing by my door. I didn’t even know when he’d gotten out.

“Um . . . yeah”, I said.

He led me in through a glass door – so hidden, amidst all the rest of glass; probably for security purposes.

I stepped in and he turned on the ceiling lights, allowing me to have a proper look around. The inside was almost as amazing as the exterior - all hardwood and marble floors, high ceiling, spiral staircase, insane fireplace and a gorgeous view - but there was something odd about the entire place.

And then I saw it.

Jeremy Harrington had only one of everything.

One black leather armchair in front of the HUGE plasma screen – which was oddly, still wrapped in plastic.

One chair at the dining table, and one placing.

In the kitchen, he had one plate, one of every cutlery, one cup and of course, one chair around the island.

There wasn’t even a single photograph or photo frame in sight.

I frowned at him.

“What? No company? Ever?” I asked.

I had a feeling I knew why he’d done it that way; and it all boiled down to one thing – or rather, person – Lauren. 

I’d tried not to think about her while I was with Jeremy, because I didn’t think I was even supposed to know, and when he looked at me – like right into my eyes – I felt like he was reading my mind. He obviously wasn’t; but that’s how I felt.

He shrugged dismissively. “Not really.”

“Where does Savannah even sleep?” I hadn’t seen the rooms, but I could practically see the one bed, one pillow, one bedside table, one lamp . . .

He chuckled slightly. “In my bed. I have an extra air mattress. So, I sleep down here.”

I shook my head and continued to look around.

“So, you never gave me your explanation”, I said, perching on the back of the armchair.

“For?” he asked, crossing his arms.

I rolled my eyes. “Your reckless driving.”

He frowned and said, “Like I said, there is none.”

I shook my head. “Do you ever think for a second, while you’re on your crazy speeding sprees, that you could kill someone?” I asked, with a frown.