Chapter Seven - Good Morning, Sunshine!

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            Alright, Grace. Get the facts straight….

1.      You are suffering from your very first hangover.

2.      You are wearing nothing but a towel and you are still wet from your recent shower.

3.      You are holding a considerably large—and HEAVY—frying pan as a weapon.

4.      You must look totally pathetic

5.      Cole Adams is standing in your dining room, taking pictures of this totally pathetic sight

6.      Yeah, you should totally get back to that… Like, RIGHT NOW

 

            I opened my eyes to see Cole laughing at me. "I just came here to have a friendly conversation with you, Grace. But it seems I got so much more than I bargained for. Nice towel, by the way. Suits you."

            My jaw dropped at the comment and I squeaked in indignation. "Delete those photos right now, Cole. Do not show anybody this. You can’t."

            "What, you don’t wanna be embarrassed? Like I was when your buddy told the whole school I was gay and he was my boyfriend? You brought this on yourself."

            "I had nothing to do with that!" I lied, cheeks flaming hotly.

            "Oh, so what… I have a lot of enemies who would enlist people I have never met before to say that I was gay? Because that’s like a daily occurrence for me," he said sarcastically shaking his head ruefully.

            My eyes narrowed to slits. "You’ve done a lot of damage to a lot of people. Who says that they couldn’t get someone to do that to you?"

            "Because I know you, Grace. When you want to be, you can be ruthless. This is the kind of prank you would pull as revenge. Well, you know what? I got incriminating photos now. It’s your turn to go down."

            "No," I hissed. "Cole, please don’t. I’ll call a truce."

            "A truce? You seriously think after the prank you pulled last night that I would just settle for a truce? You’re insane, Grace. I’ll have my payback. Then we’ll talk about truces."

            "Cole, no!" I cried. "Please. Not the photos."

            "Sorry, Grace," he said. "But just remember that you did this to yourself. You started it."

            "I didn’t—" I started, but he had already turned on his heel and was heading into the foyer.

            "Cole, get back here," I screamed. "Don’t you walk out! Cole Adams! Don’t do this."

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