Chapter 1

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I Do... Not Want My Boyfriend

Copyright © 2012 heykay_23

All rights reserved.

There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back

Well tell her that I miss our little talks

Soon it will all be over and buried with our past

We used to play outside when we were young,

And full of life and full of love

Chapter 1

 --Elspeth--

Waking up in the morning.

Such an easy task it should be, yet I had to pry my eyes open and beg my body to lift itself from the comfort of my bed. And as I finally completed my goal and took a look around my barren room, I jumped ten feet in the air once I realize that I was not alone.

Laying next to me, with their limbs wildly spread upon the bed and a bit of drool hanging from the side of their mouth was Clay.

It took a while for me to remember why he was here and then everything came rushing back all at once and a tense breath expelled from my lungs.

Now I was going to have to wake the stupid turd up. Sigh. How did he even get in my bed in the first place? When I had closed my eyes the other night he was definitely sleeping on the couch. 

I rubbed my hands together as if to work up my strength since I knew that this wouldn't be an easy job. Trying to get Clay alert and awake was like trying to raise the dead- nearly impossible.

As I neared the drowsy hunk of meat that was invading my personal bubble, his leg suddenly moved. My heart lurched in fright and I glared at the guilty limb, shaking a granny fist within my anger.

Shaking out my nerves, I headed towards his body again no longer caring how I woke him up as long as his eyes were open. When I reached out my hand to pat his shoulder, his own arm reached out and wrapped around my waist and I was hurled into a warm and intimate embrace that I couldn't help but feel comfortable in.

"What are you doing Arden?" Clay murmured, his breath holding a faint smell of alcohol.

I sighed and his arms tightly squeezed me into his body, and bit of guilt rode on my conscious as I laid there with the one boy I vowed to stay away from, "I was trying to wake your drunken butt up."

He scowled and my head settled into the side of his neck, our bodies molding together as if we were long lost puzzle pieces meant to come together as one.

God, if this was wrong why did it feel so right?

"What were you dreaming about?" I decided to ask in order to busy my roaming mind. His hand settled upon my lower back and my breath hitched despite of myself.

"Thumbs." He bluntly replied.

"What?" I half-smiled, wondering what kind of dream one could have about thumbs.

Although I wasn't looking at my hungover friend, I knew that he was shaking his head in shame, "I had a dream that all of the fingers on my hands were thumbs as well as the appendages on my feet. Do you know how creepy it was? I felt like a monkey." He explained.

I let out a small chuckle, "I don't think monkeys even have thumbs for every finger and toe."

"Now that makes me feel better," he replied, a smile to that husky voice of his, "What did you dream about?" he asked.

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