The Bad girl is a Church girl

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The synchronised groaning escaping from my lips and the banging on the door seemed to grow fingers and clutch onto my skull in a resilient embrace. "Colton! Get up! It's eight, you need to get ready for Church!" my mother yelled, her hand penetrating my door knob as she tried to consciously open it. "And why is your door locked?"

I inhaled through my nose and brought a rough hand down the length of my face. "I-I'm up!"

My mother's cursing drifted throughout the apartment as I rolled out of bed in a senseless attempt to wake myself up—or at least try to. I massaged my eyelids and slowly opened them, only to see the clothes from last night scattered across my floor. No. I was that tired that I just threw them?

After the kiss Lilani and I had shared, we had agreed that it wouldn't happen again—not like I was actually counting on it. But, just to get the reassurance from her, kept my mood intact and I had felt a great deal better when she started driving. We had only reached the apartment at three twenty-six in the morning, and even that I had to sneak into the house for. My parents were fast asleep.

That was the first time I had actually snuck into the house. And, judging by the way my mother was acting—I clearly had succeeded in that department.

I stood up in pain from the lack of sleep and grumbled to myself. This was useless. My body was craving sleep. I had never ever snoozed later than seven before I met Lilani Smithers and now, here I was skipping in town at two forty in the morning trying to find a fast food restaurant! I slapped my palm to my forehead. Lilani and her food.

My nails itched at my scalp as I made my way toward my wardrobe. I would be lying to myself if I said that I woke up looking like a Cherub. And it's written in the Bible not to lie. So, furthermore, when my eyes finally reconnected with themselves via the mirror—I found myself seething Lilani Smithers all the more.

The veins in my sclera had formed bright red lines around the edges. My pupils were dilated and directly underneath them, I had accustomed myself to inheriting three lines, creating a baggy complexion. I swiped at my hair that lathered itself in my sweat which had formed on my forehead and screeched in exasperation. I couldn't go to Church looking like I had taken various amounts of drugs with the help of alcohol and, I definitely could not step out of my room to face the wrath of my mother smelling like beer.

I took steady breaths and calmed myself. Don't fuss, don't fuss Colton. Think before you do, my mind conjured. My mantra was seated on the sofa with a chilled beer in between his fingers and with horrifying looking assortments of food packages spread around him; he was the perfect match for Lilani. I chuckled to myself, it was a strange thought to have, but a thought I refused to let go off nonetheless.

Marching into the bathroom, I slid my shirt over my head and placed it neatly into the laundry basket. I made sure to also throw the clothes that were lying on the floor into the basket too. I was going to have to do my own laundry today. I gave myself a quick wash—the quickest I could possibly do with the use of Shampoo and Conditioner and brushed my teeth three times for assurance that I didn't smell like Lani.

By nine twenty-three I had completed the task of changing into suitable wear for Church—a collared button-up shirt that had sleeves ending at the middle of my bicep and a pair of black jeans that weren't as tight as the others. I excelled on the use of deodorant, making sure that I was covered with the musky scent that was Versace and darted out my bedroom door.

Dorothy stood a few centimetres away from me and I shrunk back against the wall a little. "Bonjour Dorothy," I said casually, forcing a smile.

The old lady had a knack for knowing when I was up to something and her right eyebrow arched up in questioning. "So yesterday . . . I had a very hard time with sleeping." She shook her head slightly. "Felt like . . . Oh, I don't know . . . someone had come into the house without Mr and Mrs Sanders knowledge. You wouldn't know anything about that . . . now would you, Cole?"