T H I R T E E N

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13 | Murder plans

Whenever I was alone with Tara, she wouldn't stop coming up with ways to try and get rid of Amber. It's safe to say she came up with none that would actually work.

No one heard our conversations, at least I doubted. Besides, unless it was Amber directly, they wouldn't know who we were even talking about, so when amber approached me today, I was quite taken aback.

I slid my history text book into the small slot at the top of my locker and shut it close, immediately jumping when I saw Amber behind the once opened door, leaning against the neighbor locker with her arms crossed.

"You do remember the deal right?" She tilted her head, looking at me. Her facial expression was calm, but because of all the years I've known her, the look in her eyes wasn't a calm one.

She looked pissed.

"Of course I do." I looked around, my voice clipped with annoyance. It was kind of hard to forget.

"Good." She nodded, stepping away from the locker, but keeping her hands crossed. "So, you wouldn't do— or even plan— anything that would be crossing the terms of our agreement, right?"

"Agreement?" I snorted. "I'd say it's more along the lines of manipulation and blackmail, but sure, agreement works just fine."

Her eyes narrowed. "Scarlett, watch it." Her tone made  me falter. "Answer the question."

"No, Amber. I haven't been plotting your downfall."

"Has Tara?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No." I don't know what she knew, but I was playing the innocent card. Innocent until proven guilty, after all. "Has anyone ever told you that you're paranoid?"

She inspected my gaze, seemingly accepting my lie. For now. Tara would have to stop talking about it, because I wasn't sure where the questioning came from, but it was obvious Amber was starting to catch on.

Though, there wasn't anything for her to catch on to. It was all talk, nothing that would actually happen.

"One shot," I took a shot of a random alcohol I found in the cabinet. "Two shot," I took another one, "blue shot," another, and then I couldn't think of another one that sounded like the Dr. Suess rhyme, so I just took a fourth shot.

I wiped my mouth and screwed the cap back onto the bottle. I placed it away and quickly washed the shot glass and then placed it in its spot. The alcohol would hit me soon, really soon because I was a mega lightweight.

Why am I drinking on a Wednesday night at five p.m. you might ask?

My life fucking sucks.

At least, right now it does and I'm just trying to find things to help take away the pain of it all if only for a short while.

Thirty minutes I was stumbling and laughing at everything when someone walked in, and I groaned aloud, because she was the last person I wanted to see. "Can't you knock?" I rolled my eyes and jumped up onto the island in the kitchen.

"When was the last time I knocked?" Amber answered, and then paused. "Are you drunk?"

"Wasted," I dragged it out and laughed.

"Yeah, I can tell now." She walked closer and stopped in front of me. My smile dropped slowly as I stared into her eyes.

They were such a dark brown, they could look black in some settings, especially when she was really angry, it was like a demon took possession of her body.

They looked at me so intensely, it made butterflies fly up into my stomach, but I tried to kill them. I didn't need to have feelings for a killer. But I did. And even after the few weeks it's been, they haven't lessened any.

Why?

"I hate it. I hate that I love you." I drunkenly confessed. I didn't have a filter when I was drinking, my thoughts just spewed from my mouth.

Amber placed herself in between my thighs, her hands finding their way on my hips. My breathing deepened, and I was getting almost nervous. "I love you, too. So much more than you could ever know."

"Stop doing that." I whisper. "Saying sweet things. I can't love you. I have to hate you."

"No, you don't." She shook her head. "You're allowed to love me, Scar. Even without you, I would've done all those bad things. I wouldn't change it even if I could. You can't help who you love."

"Yeah, clearly," I mummer.

I inhaled sharply when her hands move, tracing up my sides and resting on my upper waist. "Does this feel wrong to you?" I can only shake my head. The words form on my throat, but I can't speak them aloud.

She leans in close, so close her lips are brushing against my own. Her left hand comes up to the back of my neck, and her right stays on my waist. Then, she presses her lips against mine, and I'm lost.

Her grip on both the back of my neck and my waist tighten, and I kissed her back deeply.

I'm flushed when I pull back. My body feels like it's on fire, and it's all tingly. I knew it was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong.

"I'm too drunk for this," I proclaim and jump down from the island. I land unbalanced, and almost end up tumbling to the floor. If it wasn't for Amber catching me, I would have fell right on my face.

"I agree. Come on, you need to go to sleep." She grabbed my arm and lead me up to my room. I crawled into bed, not even bothering to change out of my clothes.

The room was spinning, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I pulled the blankets closer to me, and shut my eyes, quickly falling asleep.

Amber

I watched as her breathing evened out, and then waited for a couple more minutes after that. I could feel she was coming around, not completely, but just accepting her situation.

I just had to keep my cool, and keep all the things she claims as wrong away from her. I couldn't stop. I wouldn't. It thrilled me. The feeling of someone's blood on my hands, watching the light leave their eyes.

It was exhilarating. I couldn't get enough of it. And I knew she'd want me to stop, but what she doesn't know can't hurt her.

I left the room to go downstairs and filled a glass up with water before going back up and placing it on her nightstand.

I walked to the bathroom and opened the cabinet, searching for— aha, there it is. Ibuprofen. I took out two and placed the bottles back, and placed the pills right next to the water.

I slipped off my shoes and looked around, taking note of how messy her room was.

I never liked messy. So, I couldn't stop myself. Making sure to be as quiet as possible, I cleaned off her desk and dresser, and the surrounding areas. I put everything back into its original spot, and didn't feel complete until the room was spotless.

When I was done, it was almost one in the morning, and I was getting tired. I lay down next to Scarlett, turning onto my side and watching her.

Her breathing was slow, and it calmed me down. Her dark hair was sprawled out on her dark pillowcases, and her lashes fanned over her pale skin.

I really fucking love her, and I need her to love me as I loved her back.

Mindfuck | Amber FreemanWhere stories live. Discover now