Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (34)

But when she pulled back to hit him a second time, Seth just rolled his eyes and grabbed her fist. “First punch is free,” he told her, pointing up at her with his other finger, “You're not going to get a second one, I promise you.”

Glowering, Keely decided to go the simple route and just say, “I really don't like you.”

“Uh huh,” he answered her breezily, finally letting go of her wrist, but only to put his hands on her shoulders and spin her around. “Like I haven't heard that one before, from about a billion other women. Now go get dressed, we've got to leave in a half an hour, rebel.”

“Don't call me that!”

“Just go get changed,” he ordered her, giving her a soft shove towards the stairs.

Sending him one last glare, Keely stalked up the stairs.

If she knew anything about the boy, he was stubborn, and she supremely doubted that he'd leave without her at this point. She may know next to nothing about everything going on with him, but she could sure about that at the very least.

But despite her irritation that was reaching astronomical levels at him for waking her up, for whatever reason she hadn't gotten, Keely could feel her interest peeking. It had to be a curse, this curiosity, because it wouldn't let her be. But still she wanted to know why he was in a good mood, because obviously he wasn't being the same serious Seth she was used to, although he'd taken the careless Seth from the night before down a notch. He was joking with her, smirking and grinning, maybe not smiling, but still.

Her newest theory about him was that he was bipolar, that had to be it. Because if he wasn't, Keely just didn't understand. He could smile at her one moment, scowl the next, glare at her, make a joke, ask her if she was okay, tell her that her song was crap then stand up for her music, look depressed and wounded enough to bring her close to tears and then he could put up this wall.

That had to be the problem that she just didn't understand. Him or anything about him. Nothing she thought she knew was true about him, there was always a dead end or a new bend for her to take when it came to him, and it wasn't as if he was exactly open.

Sighing she went to her drawers, grabbing comfortable clothes hurriedly. She really wanted to know what was going on with him.

In the bathroom she just pulled on a pair of her habitual torn jeans, a black tank top and an incredibly soft grey ballerina sweater that fell off her shoulders. Usually the sweater was the one she wore when she was feeling sick, it being so comfortable, but she figured being sleep deprived and sick was almost the same thing.

Only glancing in the mirror long enough to brush her teeth and grimace at her dishevelled appearance, she hurried out, dragging socks on clumsily as she did.

But as she walked down the stairs, forcing herself to slow, Keely scowled down at him.

Only a fool would believe Seth would listen to anything she said. He was standing in front of her music, his eyes passing over each spine carefully while he munched on the bowl of cereal held in his hands.

“Didn't I tell you not to eat my food?” she asked, shaking her head.

His eyes darted away from the music collection that looked overwhelmingly quaint next to the one she could remember from his apartment, and he blinked at her for a second. “Well, I thought I could eat it before you were done getting ready. Aren't girls supposed to take like hours upon hours to get dressed?”

Keely snorted, plopping down on the stairs so she could pull on her sneakers. “Since your girlfriend is Rachael Gosling, I can't really hold those words against you, can I?”