The Girl Who Stutters and The Boy Who Mutters

Chapter Twelve

"Well this is unexpected," he says smirking at me and not even bothering to stop checking me out. "I figured I'd have to wait a few more days before you started throwing yourself at me."

"I'm n-not t-throwing myself at you," I say too quickly. God, I always stutter more when I'm nervous. Wait why am I nervous? Actually no. More importantly why am I just standing here? Get it together Abby! Do something. Anything! Cover yourself up, slap him, something...

I quickly brushed past him and walked into the bathroom. Hoping he hadn't seen the way my face heated up before I shut the door and lean against it. That was literally the most embarrassing thing ever. I don't think I can live here with him any longer.

I walk over to the shower and turn it on. I let it heat up while I strip down out of my bra and underwear. I climb in the shower and start belting out the lyrics to one of my favorite twenty one pilots song. I don't know why but it just seems that whenever I'm singing I don't stutter as much as when I'm talking. My mom always told me it meant that I was meant to sing, but honestly when I sing I sound like a dying cat.

Nobody thinks what I think. 

Nobody dreams when they blink.

Think things on the blink of blasphemy, I'm my own shrink.

Think things are after me, I'm my catastrophe. 

I'm a kitchen sink, you don't know what that means?

Because a kitchen sink to you is not a kitchen sink to me, okay friend?

Are you searching for a purpose?

Then write something, yeah it might be worthless.

Then paint something then it might be wordless, pointless curses, nonsense verses.

You'll see purpose start to surface.

No one else is dealing with your demons, meaning maybe defeating them could be the beginning of your meaning friend.

But then while I'm in the middle of my little rap, I hear the door open. I slowly stick my head out from behind the shower curtain and hope to God that whoever opened the door wasn't who I think it is. 

"Mind if I join you," I see Scott in a pair of basketball shorts and with no shirt on.

I wish he would just leave me alone. 

"Scott g-get out!" I shout making sure my body is well hidden behind the curtains. 

"You don't want any company?" He asks pouting innocently. "You always look rather lonely."

I don't say anything but I try to give him my bitchiest face, hoping that it tells him that he should probably leave before I start screaming bloody murder. But it doesn't seem to affect him much as he just stands there and grins back at me happily. 

"I was just bringing you a towel," he says calmly placing the towel he has around his neck on the toilet. "I have to go wash more tomorrow."

I watch him closely as he gives me one more cheeky smile before walking back out the door. That was definitely out of the ordinary for him.

He must be up to something.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Parker g-go away!" I shout from inside the room. It's been a couple of days since the Palmerston trip and everything has been rather subtle until Parker decided to come knocking on my door. I still don't understand why he came here, I definitely did not ask him to follow me to college.