Getting The Guy

Chapter 25: The Aftermath

Of course I hadn't gotten used to being alone in this huge house. But I was happy because no one knew of my little rendezvous and no one would ever know about it either. Well, no one except Dontae and my newly found friends.

I will have to tell Dontae when we meet for our next lesson.

And yes. I said friends.

I was quickly getting accustomed to the now familiar group of overly riled up teenagers.

We had chatted together as they waited for me to get into the trusted cab driver who had safely driven me to the concert in the first place. He dropped me home. I paid him a more than generous amount—again—and he grinned heartily before waving me off and speeding off down the street.

My friends had offered me a ride home but since they were all going to a farther location than I was so I told them I could manage. But they still insisted on at least waiting until I was safely in the vicinity of the cab.

I smiled to myself and headed for the staircase.

"Do you know what time it is, young lady?"

I jumped and I almost screamed thinking a ghost was governing the walls of my house. I gripped my chest and sighed in relief when the lights enveloped the room in an orange-y glow and Wilma's figure appeared in front of me.

Her face was twisted into a displeased scowl as her hip was cocked to the side menacingly. Suddenly the relief that had washed over me now vanished and I was instead filled with a wave of anxiousness.

I could feel the anger igniting her body on fire from my stance next to the door. It was like she was a furnace and the heat was permeating throughout the atmosphere like it was the deathly heat of summer.

I gulped and stepped back a little until I was squashed against the door, invading its personal space.

"Wilma!"

Holy sweet buscuits.

"Hey," I gripped the doorknob for dear life as I tried to calm my heart that wanted to grow legs and dash out of my chest with a hundred meter sprint. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and with a quick press on the screen, I glanced at the time.

1:20 a.m.

Crap.

My fingers fumbled as I clumsily placed the phone back into the safety of my pants.

I wished I could hide away like my phone right now. But alas, I have to do damage control.

Casually, I muttered, "I thought you were home with your family. It's nice to see you here, sister friend!"

My voice was dripping with sweetness like a jar of fresh honey as I squeaked the words, trying to butter up the scary lady scowling at me.

"And you were supposed to be in bed, Vannessa."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Her usual bubbly demeanor was discarded and replaced by this foreign wave of anger.

I was scared to the point where I felt like I could have wet the nice pair of pants that I was wearing at any given moment.

"Where were you?" She demanded, with two long steps forward. "Do you know how scared I was? Hm? I went into your room and thought 'let me say goodnight to my lovely Vannessa' and while I was patting what I thought was your head, turned out to be a damn cushion and some pillowcases!"

She was exasperated.

"I called your phone. I texted you. Heck, I was this close to dialing 911 for goodness sake." Her index finger and thumb closed together, leaving a tiny space that was still big enough to allow the orange-y light to shine through. "What the hell were you thinking?!"