Chapter Twenty-One: Do That Again, and I'll Castrate You

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Chapter Twenty-One: Do That Again, and I’ll Castrate You

I stared up at my ceiling, enjoying the silent solitude that had washed over the entire house. It was Friday night and a few hours ago Elle and Nick had told me that they were off wherever to do whatever for the entire weekend. They’d be back Sunday night. It was pretty common for them to ditch me like that—they trusted me enough with the house alone, and knew that since I hated people, there was no way that I was going to invite a mass of them over to drink and dance and wreck the house. We had a mutual understanding.

      There was just something about being home alone that I really liked. Sure, the house was big enough so that if I wanted, I could practically go day without ever coming in contact with a soul, but when I was completely alone and knew that I was completely alone, it was just so much better. It was hard to describe, but that feeling of independence that came with being alone appealed to me. I was always at my best when left alone, so whenever my parents ditched me, it was usually a plus for both parties.

      The low and drawn-out melodies of the doorbell sounded, and I figured that it was either someone trying to sell me something, someone trying to convert me to something, or the mailman, so didn’t bother moving from my comfortable spot. And then it went off again. And again. And again. Soon, the doorbell was being rung by the second, not allowing the long pattern to fully play out. Someone was obviously under the impression that the house was inhabited, and they wanted to address the particular inhabitant.

      Normally, I would’ve just ignored whoever was at the front door, but because they wouldn’t stop pressing the doorbell and it was starting to give me a headache, I figured that it would be in my best interest to tell the individual who was causing the “ruckus” to shut the hell up. And thus, I heaved myself off of my bed, and tripped into the hallway. After passing through the elongated corridor, I met the stairs, and hopped down them, covering my ears so that the noise wasn’t as loud. I really hated that doorbell.

      I reached the front foyer, where the door was located, and quickly glanced around, searching for something either sharp or that could be used as a fill-in bludgeon. Since I happened to live under Nick Ross’ roof, I found a single ski just lying around, and figured that it would be useful enough, if needed. Creeping as stealthily as I could, I made my way over to the door with the ski in hand, and opened it, ready to pounce on whatever preacher, creature, or idiot that had made me walk all the way downstairs.

      “Hiya, Liv,” the idiot on the other side said as I stared at them blankly, “why the hell are you holding a ski?”

      “Self defense,” I answered, though I probably should’ve questioned what they were doing at my house or why they felt the need to give me a migraine.

      “Oh. Nice,” they nodded casually.

      “Yeah,” I trialed off. “So, uh, Luke, what the hell are you doing at my house on a Friday night?”

      The boy before me smirked, making my stomach knot together as I figured that that only meant trouble. His attire was customary, consisting of a mere leather jacket, Converse, jeans, and a white T-shirt. Everything about him seemed to be “regular”…except for the fact that he happened to be standing on my front steps on a Friday, when he happened to be Luke Daniels and probably possess plausible plans other than involving me. “Uh, Liv, where are your parents and why aren’t they judging me right now?”

      “Nick and Elle are away for the weekend,” I replied, though instantly wished that I could’ve taken the words back as his smirk grew.

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